Iridescence
by District11-Olive
Summary: "This year the Hunger Games is all about choices, in so many more ways beyond this twist." A collaboration story with Acereader55 and Call Me Fin.
1. Prologue Part One

**On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons**

_Waiting on this for a while now_  
_Paying my dues to the dirt_

* * *

**President Snow**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"The panel is waiting for you, sir."

"Thank you, Vivian," I say, once again dismissing my distressed-looking assistant. This must be the third time now that she has knocked on my study door in the past twenty minutes. Surely she must understand that I am all too aware of the anxious panel of Gamemakers waiting for me in the great room. I understand to every degree that I asked them here at precisely noon hours. I also understand that I am the President and I am allowed to disregard their waiting entirely should it benefit my own means.

With another one of her solemn nods, the door closes slowly behind her and I am left once again to my own indecisiveness. It is only a few months before the start of the Fourth Quarter Quell that marks a century of Hunger Games, and I have realized that it is indeed past time for me to have chosen my next Head Gamemaker. I have known that the choice would be necessary since just a few days after the end of the last Hunger Games, but the choice seemed insignificant and far away in comparison to the mourning I had to face.

It is true that due to the nature of the job, Head Gamemakers never simply retire. It is a job that is sealed in death, and it just so happened that my last Head Gamemaker, Damus Lavine, chose to seal it himself just four days after the end of the 99th Hunger Games. He was found in the control room having had injected himself with a lethal dose of tracker jacker toxin.

While it is true that Head Gamemakers are almost always very short lived in their careers, I had held onto Damus since the 87th Hunger Games when I made the not so difficult choice to end Hetta Mavic's two year run. He gave Panem some of the best years of the Hunger Games that it has ever seen, with brilliance stemming from his beautiful arena designs to his amazing incorporation of mental stimulation into the very physical demands the arena places on the tributes.

He was a true master of the art, destined to be the longest running Head Gamemaker in just four short years. Not only that, though, but we became like long lost brothers of sorts. We had a twisted sort of understanding, like a family that discussed the benefits of targeted bombings over dinner instead of the day's events. But we were an odd sort of close nonetheless.

I have done my best not to dwell on the fact that I did not see his suicide coming, because the truth is that no matter our closeness I am still the President and I must do what is needed to keep the nation running no matter what I am feeling. Sometimes late at night I allow myself to consider what Damus and I would be cooking up for the Quarter Quell had he graced Panem with his presence for another year, but not right now. Right now I have to choose his successor, I have taken far too long to make this decision. If I take too much longer they will not have the proper amount of time to prepare an exciting Quarter Quell.

There are three candidates I have handpicked out of last year's panel of Gamemakers, none of which I consider truly worthy of the position. Oh how much easier it would have been to simply leave the grunt work up to Damus, but now the success of the Quarter Quell is riding on this decision. Who can do the job and give Panem the wonderful anniversary of the Hunger Games that it deserves?

I stand from my desk as a thought crosses my mind. I don't believe it has even been done before, and certainly not within my reign as president, but it may just be the crazy idea that I need to light a fire beneath these three candidates. This year none of them are ready for the responsibilities of being the Head Gamemaker, but next year one of them will be... with a test run.

Three Head Gamemakers. That means three times the ideas, three times the competition to produce the greatest arena elements, and another year for me to choose Damus' true successor.

* * *

**Roan Marisco, Male, Gamemaker**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I look at the fax in my hand again and the shaking excitement returns. Last night seemed like nothing but a distant fantasy, a dream even. Waiting for over an hour for President Snow to begin the second meeting about the Fourth Quarter Quell. His assistant, whose name I always forget, running in and out of the room to follow orders from both her boss and the senior Gamemakers. The sound of the coffeemaker and the strong smell of burnt coffee grounds the only company we all have even amongst each other.

Last night was a waking nightmare in itself. Every night I am required to spend in the company of the other Gamemakers is always far more exhausting than it is exciting, even whilst working on the biggest Quarter Quell that Panem has ever had.

The best nights I remember having in my career as a Gamemaker were the late nights spent in muttation labs, working away to tweak the genetic makeup of a muttation that I knew would surely catch the eye of President Snow, not to mention the whole of Panem, in its debut. That is how I began as a Gamemaker, as most of us do, as nothing but another lab technician working every inch of my brain to its maximum exertion so that maybe next time it would be I who has created the muttations to feature in the arena.

If I had known where catching the attention of senior Gamemakers would lead me, I am unsure if I would have worked quite so hard to get to where I am now. The prestige of being a senior Gamemaker is countered only by the Head Gamemaker, but sitting in a room for hours on end to discuss nothing more than a trivial detail of something that has nothing to do with my area of specialty? That is something I never wished for, but we all make mistakes and I have learned to make the most of what mine have graced me with.

Beginning my work under Head Gamemaker Lavine at the tender age of twenty-three seemed like it would be the end of my promotion, but now just a year and a half later here I am- holding a fax from President Snow himself detailing the Fourth Quarter Quell. Head Gamemaker Marisco, I never thought there would be a day where I would see that printed at the top of a letter.

I smooth the paper out across my desk and let my eyes take it all in hungrily. Just when I am starting to believe that it was a mistake to move up this quickly in this career path. Just when I think that I might have enjoyed staying in the muttation lab for a few more years. This note tells me that everything I have worked to prove is worth it. I am going to be the Head Gamemaker.

This year there might be three of us, but the one that gives the best performance for the Quarter Quell is most certainly going to be myself. I have never been outdone in anything in my entire life, not in school, not in clubs, not in anything. And I am not about to start down that dark path now. No, I am going to be better than both of them. So what if I am the least experienced in gamemaking out of the three of us? That means absolutely nothing. Genius is born, not raised, and I have proved time and time again that in this field I am nothing short of a genius.

I scan down the rest of the page, all of it seeming rather formal to me. There is very basic guidelines for the arena that I remember discussing earlier this month at our first meeting. A small piece about the teams that have been put together, including two new additions to the head muttations team and one to the head of weaponry. All of it seems of little importance and I begin to lose interest after the first couple of headings. Then it catches my eye, the section simply titled "Quarter Quell."

"_On the Fourth Quarter Quell, as a reminder to the rebels that it was through their own choices that the rebellion took place and many lives were lost, the choice will be given back to the Capitol. Citizens of the Capitol will vote on the districts that will send the most and least amount of tributes, as outlined below._

_The three districts receiving the highest amount of votes will each offer up four tributes for the Quarter Quell._

_The three districts receiving the second highest amount of votes will each offer up three tributes for the Quarter Quell._

_The three districts receiving the third highest amount of votes will each offer up the usual two tributes for the Quarter Quell._

_The three districts receiving the lowest amount of votes will each offer up only one tribute for the Quarter Quell."_

I smile, it's brilliance that only a true genius could come up with. It is the perfect representation of the pain and suffering that the rebels chose to impose upon our great nation. For a moment I cannot help but feel proud that the Capitol was able to quell the rebellion and be still standing great and tall today. This year the Hunger Games is all about choices, in so many more ways beyond this twist.

* * *

**A/N (Olive) : Hey guys, miss me? It's only been about three months or less since I left FF, but I'm back... and I'm doing another SYOT. **

**You guys can thank Fin (Call Me Fin) and Ace (Acereader55) for the convincing. **

**Anyways, this is the first chapter of our new SYOT which will be written by the three of us. A bit of the structure was given in Roan (My Gamemaker)'s POV, but I'll lay it out for you again here to keep things simple. **

**The number of tributes each district will send into the Hunger Games was determined by Capitol vote. The most popular districts send in more, the less popular send in less. Also means there will be thirty tributes total.**

**Districts One, Three, and Seven will each send in **_**four **_**tributes.**

**Districts Two, Four, and Eight will each send in **_**three **_**tributes.**

**Districts Five, Six, and Ten will each send in **_**two **_**tributes.**

**Districts Nine, Eleven, and Twelve will each send in **_**one **_**tribute. **

**For the districts sending in odd numbers of tributes, the last one will be of random gender (ie- District Two will send one girl, one boy, and one random; District Twelve will send in one tribute of random gender). **

**All industries and such are the same as canon.**

**No reservations will be accepted and all spots will remain open until the deadline. On the deadline we will choose the best tributes out of those received and post the second half of the prologue as well as the official tribute list and the link to the blog.**

* * *

**Deadline for Tributes- November 29****th****, 2014.**

* * *

**The tribute form is on my profile, and tributes should be sent to this account. We will be accepting a total of thirty tributes. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour! (I had to add that...).**

* * *

**Song- On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons**

* * *

_**It'd be really awesome to hear some reviews so I guess we'll put in some questions for you guys to answer along with a general review (which would be so awesome).**_

_**What do you think of the Quarter Quell?**_

_**Any comments on our first of three Head Gamemakers, Roan?**_

_**Thanks for reading and welcome to **_**Iridescence!**


	2. Prologue Part Two

**Habits by Tove Lo**

_You're gone and I gotta stay_

_High all the time_

_To keep you off my mind_

* * *

**Gemma Fauxe, Female, Gamemaker**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

"No Alora, nothing important really.."

"Gemma! You need to do something!" letting out a heavy sigh, I quickly bid goodbye to Alora, and slam the phone on the desk, glaring at the group of people that were now surrounding me.

"I gave you your duties, now what do you want?"

"The arena ma'am, what do you mean by this?" one of the idiots asks, pointing to a blue print he held in his shaking hands.

"I might have been on something when I wrote that, that doesn't even make sense," I joke, but get nothing in return, not even a damn chuckle.

"Then what do you want..?"

"I don't know figure something out, now go, get to work!"

"Gemma, you understand the consequences of being unsuccessful in this profession?"

Oh how easily these people annoy me, it makes me wonder why I even wanted this job in the first place? The fame Gemma, remember that, by the end of the year everyone in Panem will know your name. That is if you don't screw up.

"Alright alright, emergency meeting in my office, I suppose we should work as a team for this..."  
The very thought of having to sit in a small room with half a dozen other people and listen to them talk and hear them breath and see them.. I have to force myself not to throw up at the whole idea of it.

Despite my dislike for the thought, it's only a few minutes later that I find myself in the very situation that had almost made me vomit moments before.

"Let's begin by talking about the reapings, since that's where it all starts. Remind me again who won the poll?"

"District One, Three, and Seven came in first, meaning they will each send four tributes in this year."

Ah that's right, I remember hearing that and giggling at how idiotic the Capitol really was. District One I can understand, they've always been a favourite, but Seven and Three? Why on earth would you not want to double the amount of careers in the arena, what's so special about Districts Three and Seven?

"Cayla really does know what she's doing," I hear someone comment amongst the many conversations happening around me.

Duh, that's why District Seven won that stupid poll! Two years ago a pretty blonde stole the Capitol's heart, for doing really nothing at all. It had been the first time in a while we'd seen an outer district tribute with those kind of looks, and combine that with the girls natural ability to play a crowd, and charm just about anyone, well those other tributes didn't stand a chance. And here we are, two years later and Cayla still has that effect on people, even promising the Capitol that from now on District Seven tributes would be just like her, or even better. I bet she didn't see this quell coming, because now she has to send twice the amount of tributes.

"Cayla was, and still is one of District Seven's best victors, but her games ended two years ago, and it is time to focus on this years games," I say, barely above a whisper, but still every person in that room immediately shut their mouth and turned to me.  
I could get used to this kind of power, I think to myself, cracking a small grin.

"I think everyone can agree that we need something that will prove to the President that we are better than the others, we need something original, something no one has seen before," I say, scanning the room for any sign that someone has an idea, because honestly I've got nothing, and clearly neither do they.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair, already giving up hope.

"Go team," I cheer sarcastically. "You all better hope we get a good batch of tributes this year or we are screwed!"

"The last few Games have set the victors bar ridiculously high," someone grumbles, but it's true. Cayla wasn't the only recent victor to steal the Capitol's hearts, take last years victor for example, the 15 year old nerdy boy who managed to look sexy enough to make every girl in the Capitol swoon.. Hey! That's probably why District Three won that poll!

"Gemma, are we going to accomplish anything this meeting?"

"I wanted to, but it isn't looking so good is it? Why don't we call it a day and go downtown for some drinks eh?"

"We have so much to talk about tho! So much planning! So many decisions!"

"That's the thing Declan, we don't, because if there's one good thing about having three Gamemakers this year, it's that the work is divided into thirds, and we still have a long ways until the Games."

"We still should do our part.."

"Let me let you in on a little secret that my father once told me, never do anything you can get someone else to do for you," I whisper, dramatically leaning over so my lips are inches away from his ear.

"Now let's go get those drinks shall we?" I giggle, grabbing my coat off a nearby hook and pushing my way through to the door, 6 pairs of blank faces starring at me as I pass.

I guess I should take this more seriously, their lives are at risk here, but there's just this one tiny little problem; I just don't care.

* * *

I don't know what time it is, but it must be late, because it's been what feels like several hours since my fellow Gamemakers left the small bar I had driven them to. By now the drinks were going down easy, and that warm feeling that starts in your stomach has long since spread throughout my entire body. To put it simply, I've never felt better in my life, so why stop?

Throwing back another shot, that another desperate man had bought me, I turn to face the crowd, ready to find my target of the evening.

It's not hard to find the right one, standing amongst the crowd with his spiked brown hair, dazzling smile, and the muscles to top it all off. It was almost as if someone had made him just for me, regardless, I planned to take full advantage of the opportunity.

I quickly slide out of my heals, pick them up, and strut over to mr handsome as steadily as I can, which apparently isn't very steady, considering I fall into several people on the way there, all of which who graciously help me up, another perk of my new found fame.

"Hey sexy," I purr, linking my hand in his as I approach.

"Uh, hi," he mumbles, quickly pulling his hand away.

"I'm about ready to get out of here, and I need someone to help me home, and well to be blunt I was hoping you'd be up for the job," I wink, putting my hand out to keep myself steady.

"Well I appreciate the offer, but I uh, better be getting home myself," he says, starting to turn around. But I grab his wrist, and with all my drunken strength I spin him around, until he's once again facing me.

"What's wrong with me?" I begin to shout, not caring the attention it may be getting me.

"Nothing, you're pretty and all but-"

"But what? Is it my job? What? Tell me god damn it!" I scream, getting entirely too fed up with his mumbling.

"What's wrong with you is that you don't have a penis, I like guys," he whispers in my ear, and I don't know if it's the shock, or the embarrassment, or a combination of the two, but somehow I end up on the ground, sitting on my butt, starring up at those around me as tears begin to silently fall down my face.

I need another drink, I think, trying to think of anything that might take the embarrassment away, but as I'm standing up, I hear the door slam open, and the bar go eerily silent.

I peek around the many legs that surround me, until I finally see whose entered the bar, and to say my stomach drops is an understatement.

I slowly begin to back up, crawling my way through legs and legs until I reach the other side of the bar, to where I find the emergency exit.

I quickly put my heels back on, how I didn't lose them I have no idea, and reach for the handle.

"Gemma Fauxe."

"Shit," I whisper under my breath, throwing a smile on my face and spinning around. Standing just behind me is the last person I'd ever want to see here, well actually second last; Vivian Gerome, the Presidents personal assistant.

"Having a good night are we?"

"Not bad," I say, though I fear it may come out as more of a slur.

"I think it's about time we head home."

"I couldn't agree more, I was just heading out," more slurs.

"Why don't you come with me?"

I think I nod but I'm not sure because the next thing I know my world goes black, and I'm falling to the floor, vomit escaping my lips.

* * *

"Gemma Gemma Gemma, I have no idea what the President was thinking when he agree to give you this position, but you better turn yourself around before it's too late and you screw up this whole thing." The words are far off, and I can't open my eyes, but somehow I know I'm laying in the back of a car, and Vivian is sat right beside me.

"Sorry," I attempt to say, but I don't know if I get it out or not because a single face flashes across my mind accompanied with the words she's gone, and I'm not sure if it's the pain of remembering her again, or the alcohol, but it's only a few seconds later when I black out for good.

* * *

**A/N: Hello everyone! This is Ace here, and this chapter was written by Call Me Fin (Fin). This chapter was uploaded to introduce you to Fin's Gamemaker and to update all of you as to how the submissions process is going.  
**

**As a side note, we are only accepting one character per person for now. If we cannot find good enough characters by only accepting one character per person, then we will start to accept more than one character from a single person. Here's an updated version of the tributes we have been receiving;**

**\- Districts One and Eight have very stiff competition. We've received a bunch of applications for these two Districts. You may still apply here, but just know that it will be very hard to get in by submitting here.  
**

**\- District Ten has received absolutely zero submissions to date, so please feel free to submit here as there hasn't been a single application sent for this District specifically.  
**

**\- Districts Nine, Eleven, and Twelve have all only received one submission each. Each of these Districts is only reaping one tribute for this Games, but we would like a wide variety of tributes to choose between so feel free to submit here as there isn't much competition for these spots right now.  
**

**\- Districts Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven have all received anywhere from 2-4 submissions each, and if you planned on submitting here please still do it as we would like to have a wide variety of tributes to choose between as some of these districts are reaping more than the normal 2 tributes.  
**

**\- We have received a plethora of 18 year olds, so it would be nice to receive a few tributes who are not at the last possible age for their Reaping/Volunteering.**

**We hope you guys enjoyed this part of the prologue and please keep sending in those tributes! The next time we will be updating this will be with the official tribute list. Good luck to everyone that submitted and thanks once again for reading!**

**-Ace, Olive, Fin**

* * *

**Song: Habits by Tove Lo**

* * *

**Deadline for Tribute Submission: November 29****th****, 2014**


	3. Prologue Part Three

**Haunt by Bastille**

"_I'll come back to Haunt you._

_Memories will taunt you."_

* * *

**Xander, Male, Head Gamemaker**

**Acereader55**

* * *

The heels of my cleaned black shoes click against the hard, polished marble floor of the narrow corridor that I'm striding down. My large steps get me to the end of the corridor rather quickly, and I push open the set of double doors made from frosted glass. The new room is decorated with purple and gold curtains, exotic plants imported from District Seven, and stacks of papers that are overflowing on a wooden desk that is situated in the corner of the room where a woman is seated.

"You really need to organize yourself more, Genova," I speak. "This is why I was given the promotion over you." Genova spins herself around in the purple chair that is placed behind the wooden desk and proceeds to give me a glare that is full of hate and annoyance.

"If you're only here to insult me, I suggest you leave now. I'm not in the mood to engage in a match of witty banter," she spits back. I laugh a hearty laugh and sit myself down in a chair that is across from Genova herself.

"I didn't come for witty banter, my dear Genova. I came to see if you have the information I requested you take."

At the mention of the job I gave her earlier on in the week, her icy blue eyes widen with excitement and she immediately gets up from her chair and scurries over to a small marble table where many manila folders and flash drives are strewn across it.

"I did manage to snag the information that you asked me to get, and I have it some where here…" She trails off as she searches for the flash drive that she stored the information on. When she finds what she is looking for, she scampers back over to the wooden desk where she was seated at when I first came in and plugs the flash drive into a computer. Immediately following this, the computer screen lights up with a variety of letters and numbers. "This wasn't easy to snag, and I had to crack numerous codes to get what you wanted."

"I know this took all of the resources you have Genova, and I cannot express the amount of gratitude I have towards you for doing this for me," I say and give a quick flash of a smile, which I do not throw around lightly. "This information is imperative to my success as one of the three Head Gamemakers this year, and this will certainly give me a leg up on the competition."

"I'm glad I am able to help," Genova says. "Let's just hope that we are not caught doing this or the Head Gamemaker spot isn't the only thing that you'll lose Xander."

It's sweet how much Genova cares about my well-being. I've known for a very long time that Genova has lusted after me, and I intend to use that to my advantage at any point in time that I can. That's why, when I came up with this plan, the first person I thought of to help me was Genova. All it took was a few whispered words and empty promises and she was on board to help me.

I am interrupted from my thoughts when the computer screen flashes brightly and Genova lets out a loud squeal of approval.

"I've cracked it! Here are the files you asked for Xander, all thanks to me." Genova stands up from her place in the chair and motions for me to sit in front of the brightly lit computer screen. I take confident strides over to the chair and sit down, eager to see what the flash drive Genova has contains. When I stare at the computer screen, I smile devilishly.

"Genova, you've certainly outdone yourself. Thank you for all your help," I say, motioning for her to leave the room as I would like some alone time for what I'm about to see. She takes the gesture, smiles, and walks out the frosted glass double doors.

I use the large touch pad attached to the keyboard to scroll through the many pages of designs and coding on the screen, absorbing as much of the information as I can and memorizing as much of the different codes as I can. There is so much so learn and so little time before I will have to dispose of the flash drive so no evidence is left behind.

After a few minutes of studying code after code and design after design, I click the computer screen off and take the flash drive out of the computer. Time to dispose of the evidence. With that thought in mind, I open my mouth wide and swallow the flash drive that contains all of the coding and designs of fellow Head Gamemaker, Roan Marisco.

There is no light protruding through the window when the phone to my apartment rings loudly, begging for me to pick it up. I quickly rip off the sheets that are covering my body in warmth and security, and scurry over to where the phone is in my large apartment. I pick up the phone and am surprised to hear the voice of my loyal assistant, Genova.

"Xander, Xander! They've found out what I've done and they're coming for me." My eyes immediately widen at the sound of Genova sounding so panicked and at the words she is speaking. "They're stalking me right now, and they know I've done something illegal."

"Genova, who is stalking you?" I don't know why I ask the question I already know the answer to.

"You know who it is." Her voice is almost a whisper now and she sounds even more panicked and frantic than before. "You have to make sure they don't tie you to what has happened or else they'll-"

The line immediately cuts dead after a loud shriek was heard, more than likely Genova's. If they've tied Genova to what has happened, then they are on the track to finding out how I am involved with her. I need to think hard and I need to think fast to solve a way out of this disastrous puzzle that I've gotten myself into.

I have to live.

I have to survive.

For Genova.

For myself.

* * *

**Song: Haunt by Bastille**

* * *

**A/N: Hi it's Olive bringing you the last part of the prologue written by Acereader55. Below is the official tribute list for Iridescence, but before showing you that (even though I know you all skipped to it first anyway) I would like to thank everyone that submitted. There were some very tough decisions to be made and it was all because of the many amazing tributes we were sent.**

**I hope there are no hard feelings if your tribute(s) was not accepted. We received over forty submissions for thirty spots, so decisions had to be made.**

**You can find the link to the blog on my profile under collaborations, and there you will be able to see which author is writing for your tribute. If you have any inquiries about changes or something that has been made to your tribute, feel free to PM their author.**

**And now, the tribute list!**

* * *

**District One**

Raleigh Torrance, 18

Jasper Graves, 18

Zaria Tullius, 18

Glint Grayson, 18

**District Two**

Eden Ares, 18

Braden Kellis, 18

Arnette Lyrin, 18

**District Three**

Maelle Thurske, 18

Zeno King, 17

Savvy McCreevy, 15

Toby Alvarez, 13

**District Four**

Ebba Farley, 18

Atlas Majors, 16

Dierdre Lewell, 18

**District Five**

Aluma Rye, 16

Gideon Challene, 16

**District Six**

Tatum Albright, 16

Aston Moroque, 15

**District Seven**

Lavender Vargas, 14

Shay Langford, 15

Phoebe Ryder, 16

Regan Volke, 18

**District Eight**

Eira Gray, 17

Armada Pruitt, 13

Avrie L'reaux, 17

**District Nine**

Matilda Prescott, 18

**District Ten**

Corlis Kembrey, 17

Hunter Mathot, 16

**District Eleven**

Winifred Herring, 12

**District Twelve**

Xylia Devrine, 18

* * *

**It would mean a lot to all of us to hear from you all about what you thought of the chapter and, of course, what you think of this year's tributes! Leave a review and let us know who your favourites (and least favourites) are just based on the information given in the blog. **

**Next up is the Reapings, which will be up within 1-2 weeks if all goes as planned. **

**-Ollie**


	4. History

**Prisoner of Today by Billy Talent **

_Cause this our time and our space..  
History I can't erase_!

* * *

**Gemma, Female, Head Gamemaker**

**Reapings District 1-4**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

Head Gamemaker Gemma Fauxe

My head is pounding, the light hurts my eye, my stomach aches, and my brain is scattered, my whole body is a mess. But yet, here I am, sat on a couch in a grand room with dozens of people scattered around me, talking, screaming, laughing, making as much noise as they can, as if they didn't know I was nursing a hangover.

I'm Gemma Fauxe, when am I not?

"Are you excited to find out who your tributes will be?"

"Leave me alone," I snap, glaring at the old man who thought he was good enough to speak to me.

I don't understand why I'm forced to be in a public setting to watch the reapings, but Vivian suggested it, and by suggest I mean she demanded. So hear I am, probably still drunk from last nights party, ready to find out the little brats I'll be killing in a weeks time.

"Can you quiet down? Don't you idiots realize it's starting?"

I'll admit, I've changed a little over the past few months, some might say the power has gone to my head, but I'd tell them to fuck right off, because what the hell is power good for if not to make me feel superior over the idiots that walk around the city?  
I couldn't tell you the name of the man on screen, and if asked I wouldn't be able to repeat what he's saying, but whatever it is I'm sure it's unimportant, for if it was, I would already know about it.

It's some time before the mans plastic face is replaced with the District One symbol, which is then soon replaced with the showing of District One's town square, where a resident idiot stands on stage, rambling on about more stuff I couldn't care less about. But soon enough she is dipping her hand into the first bowl, and pulling out a name.

The Quell twist said nothing about volunteering, so naturally the forgotten name is quickly replaced by an eager volunteer. I take that back, the girl looks less than eager as she casually walks to the stage, her face showing absolutely no emotion. She's tall, taller than most of the people she passes on her walk. Her hair is black, and it's pulled up in a tight ponytail. She's pretty, but nothing compared to those District One has produced in the past, it's almost a let down not to get our stereotypical beautiful blonde, but there is still hope in our second female.

When the girl finally gets to the stage, she accepts the microphone from the escort and announces her name in a rather monotone voice.

Zaria Tullius, you're not helping yourself one bit with your boring show so far.

Though my opinion seems to proven wrong as I hear the excited whispers of those near me.

Zaria's face immediately pops up on the favourites table that is shown from the second the first tribute is selected, until the last kill has breathed their final breath. Of course, Zaria sits at number one, being the only tribute drawn, but I wouldn't be surprised if she stays there for a while.

"Gemma! What do you think? You like her right? She's so pretty!" I ignore the squeals from behind me as the escort dips her hand back into the bowl.

The girl that starts towards the stage is more what you'd expect from the Capitols favourite District. Her hair is long, and blonde, and her body is thin, and the most important part of her appearance; she's smiling.

I can't help but crack a small smile in return, surely this is more what the Capitol wants, she's even waving at the cameras for them! There's no doubt she's laying it on thick, almost too thick for me not to get a little bit suspicious, but the people around me have no qualms about the girl, hooting and hollering almost as loud as they did for Zaria.

My head begins to ache again, and I scan the crowd, glaring at whomever I make eye contact with, successfully quieting quite a few people.

Who ever invented the hangover can go to hell, and why hasn't anyone tried to cure this? There's scientists all over Panem working on plastic surgery, and curing diseases and what not, but what about the people who are naturally beautiful and perfectly healthy, but like to drink a little? We're worth nothing I guess, maybe I should pay someone to start working on a cure.. Screw it, I'll just use the only cure I know off.

I grab my coffee and purse from the floor, and empty my emergency flask into the coffee without anyone noticing, everyone in the room being way to absorbed in the two pretty girls that now stand on stage.

Tossing my purse to the floor, I chug back the now cold and bitter coffee, almost immediately feeling better.

The girls still stand on stage, obviously, where else are they to go? Is my brain becoming fuzzy already? No it's just my imagination, it must be.

The blonde girl, Raleigh Torrance as the favourites board says, stands still grinning at the cameras, her female partner doing the exact opposite, maintaining her emotionless stare.

Escort lady moves to the other bowl, pulling out a slip and reading the name.

Soon after the name is called, a masculine voice is yelling they volunteer, and a tall blonde boy is strutting to the stage, a smug grin plastered on his face. He confidently scales the stages steps, and announces his name to be Glint Grayson.

"I think I'll call him GG," I joke to a bright-haired women beside me, and surprisingly she laughs, repeating the nickname to the man beside her.

Soon enough the whole room is chanting the two letters, and I can't help but laugh, one little comment can cause such a display of enthusiasm. I really do have all the power I've ever wanted.

"So, whose your favourite so far?" I whisper to the same bright-haired lady, beginning to feel like my normal social self, thanks to my little friend in the flask.

"Oh I don't know! I love all three, they're so pretty!" She's squeals, and I can't help but laugh along side her.

I turn away as the finale member of team District One heads towards the stage. He calmly approaches the stage after the name has been called, and much like Zaria he doesn't show any emotion, staring blankly out at the crowd as he takes his position on stage and calmly announces his name; Jasper Graves, a very haunting name I do say.

"There they are," the lady beside me gasps as the camera zooms out to show the four tributes that will be representing District One.

A feeling of satisfaction overwhelms me as I look over each and everyone of them, Zaria still holds her blank stare, gazing off into the distance, but I do see it now, the beauty the people around me had described, she's alluring, and the Capitol loves that.

Raleigh smiles away, waving at the crowd as the escort asks for their applause. She looks genuinely happy to be there, but with her odds, I don't see how that's possible, even if she is a career, I'll be watching you Raleigh Torrance.

Glint holds himself similarly to Raleigh, smiling and waving at the crowd, but his smile has more of an arrogance to it, and for some reason I truly believe he's happy to be where he is.

Jasper is the only one who has changed in the slightest since claiming his spot, it's barely noticeable, but as he stands on stage staring at the crowd, I can't help but notice the way his lips twitch in a way that says he's holing back a smile.

I excuse myself during the commercial break, and slip away to where the bar is just beginning to open.

The man sees me coming, and has my drink on the counter before I even reach it, and I make it back to the room just in time to see District Two spelled across the screen, Zaria still leading in the favourites poll.

The escort, a man this time, is another one who I hadn't, and wouldn't bother to learn the name of, just another irrelevant person in this whole process.

As soon as the first female slip is selected, a hand is visible amongst the crowd, and shortly after a rather large girl comes walking up the stage. When I say large, I mean it, I have never seen such a masculine looking girl. She's tall, more than likely at least 6 foot, and her arms are pure muscle.

"I wouldn't wanna get in a fight with her," I joke to my new friend beside me, but instead of the chuckle I'd expect, I get an obviously fake grin, followed by a disgusted look at my drink.

Who the hell does this bitch think she is? I can drink if I want to, who is she to judge?

"Problem?" I snark, but receive no response. Oh well, it had to come some time, the truth is people just don't like me, and that's that. I don't waste another minute before I down the rest of my drink.

The muscle girl finally gets to the stage just as the warm sensation hits my stomach, and my fingers start to get tingly. I force myself to pay attention though, as she announces her name to be Eden Ares, a lethal sounding name to go with her lethal appearance, and when she proclaims to be this years victor, well I find it hard to doubt her.

The eyes start to linger towards me as I sloppily set my glass on the floor, but I do my best to pay them no attention, studying the screen as the male volunteer begins his trek towards the stage. Just like the girl, he isn't too exciting, average looking with a whole lot of muscle, and I was just about to write him off as boring when the screams began.

A girl, no doubt, screaming a name, one which I presume to be that of the volunteers, screaming at him to stop, not to go, it's almost pathetic, but the look in the boys eyes tell me he's second guessing. Braden goes to turn around, but two peacekeepers are quickly on either side of him, escorting him up the stage just as a young women comes barrelling down the isle towards him. She's quickly swarmed by peacekeepers, but she's done her damage, the boy doesn't look nearly as confident as he did before, his eyes filled with regret and hesitation.

It's too late buddy, you're going in, and more than likely going to die, and there's nothing that girl can do about it. People can be so dumb sometimes, take my fellow Head Gamemakers for example, their idiots, thinking I don't see the way they look at me, the way they whisper behind my back, heck even the way they talk to my face, their just like everybody else, they hate me, and I don't know why.

This stupid drink must be making me all emotional and shit, keep it together Gemma, you don't care what they think.

Braden Kellis is the name of the boy who quietly introduces himself, taking his spot beside Eden, who looks at him with slight disgust. I crack a small smile, career drama is always a favourite.

"And now, behind me there is a bowl containing a piece of paper with every eligible citizens name on it. The paper I select will determine who joins the lovely Eden and Braden on stage, unless of course we have a volunteer!"

The girl doesn't even let the escort select a slip, before she's standing in the isle, a bright smile on her face.

The ginger-haired girl's smile doesn't falter as she struts to the stage, hips swaying as if she was one of those models the Capitol so desperately loves.

I'm beginning to think she's just crazy, but just before she reaches the stages, she turns to the nearest camera and flashes a wink, combined with an overly dramatic kiss blown towards the lens. Oh dear, just like Raleigh this girl's laying it on thick, but there's something different in the way she does it. Raleigh laid it on thick, but she seemed as dumb as she appeared, this girl, well this girls got something else.

I eye the favourites board, searching for the girls name; Arnette Lyrin matches with the pretty girls smiling face.

The dark-haired District One girl still leads the pack, but Eden Ares is closely behind, Raleigh Torrance bringing up the rear, already beat out by Arnette.

"What is wrong with Raleigh?" I ask to no one in particular, but get an answer none the less.

"She looks like an idiot, I wouldn't be surprised if she's cut from the pack, obviously being the weakest link so far," someone says from behind me, but I don't bother turning around, only nodding in response.

Mostly because the comment pissed me off, what right do these people have to judge that poor girl based on her appearance? Sure she seems a little.. Bubbly, but isn't that what they want? A girl who actually wants to be here? No, they prefer the two girls who walked to the stage with no emotion, because that means they won't hesitate before stabbing their allies in the back.

The Capitol is so damn hypocritical.

My eyes begin to droop as District Three appears on screen, the combination of my hangover and drinking again clearly getting the better of me. But knowing if I have any hope of continuing to be Gamemaker next year, I need to at least know my tributes. That's one thing both Xander and Roan won't see coming, me actually trying to win this little competition, I'm quite sure they both see me as the easy one to beat, but we'll see about that!

District Three is the first District where I actually have to pay attention to the escort, because it's pretty much guaranteed that the name she calls is the name of the tribute that's going into the arena.

I daze off as it shows the boring stuff, where she talks about the Capitol, and all it's glory, all a bunch of bullshit if you ask me.. When the hell did I become to hateful of the Capitol? I must need another drink.

After the Reapings, I remind myself, forcing myself to return to the screen as the escort walks back to centre stage, slip in hand.

"Maelle Thurske, where are you dear?" A moment passes before an older girl steps from the 18 year old section, lip quivering and hands balled up into little fists. Even through her eyes are watery, she looks... calm. She's doesn't look like she's trying to exert her emotions to make us sympathize with her, or to make us see her as a threat, she looks innocent, like a girl showing her true emotions at the thought of dying, and that's either true, or she's a heck of a good actor.

Once on stage, she quickly takes her spot behind the escorts, keeping her hands balled up, and her eyes watering, though she doesn't let one tear slip, an impressive accomplishment.

Maelle is probably the best thing that could come from District Three, she's decently pretty, and she held herself together fairly well, but yet there's still no way I could see her as victor, she's too fragile, too weak, and once again I'm lost as to why the Capitol voted for this pathetic District.

I'm praying by some miracle a big muscle girl comes up next, but when the escort calls out the second name, and almost immediately screams can be heard, I lose all hope in District Three.

But when nothing happens, except for what appears to be children screaming, my interest is peaked once more, and I sit slightly more erect in my seat, wondering what could be going on.

"Savvy Mcreevy? Are you here dear?" It's only a few moments after the escort calls out again, that Peacekeepers can be seen making their way into one of the sections, and after that it's only a few more moments before chaos erupts as a smaller girl appears to be...well actually it's quite clear she just punched that peacekeeper in the stomach.

The girl fights offs a few peacekeepers, which is actually quite impressive, before one comes up behind her and pulls her arms behind her back.

Savvy is quickly dragged on to the stage, where she is placed beside a very concerned looking Maelle. Something is whispered in Savvy's ear as she is sat down, and when the peacekeeper let's go of her, she stops resisting, standing almost obediently, a very contrasting behaviour when compared to her just a few seconds ago. Though it's not hard to understand why she behaves when a few moments later the children's screaming abruptly cuts off, and Savvy finally breaks down, knees wobbling as tears spill down her face.

The escort looks completely unaffected, as if she hadn't witnessed anything, as she switches to the boys bowl, wasting no time before announcing the name in the mic.

"Zeno King," she chimes, and it only takes a matter of seconds before an older boy is making his way to the stage.

Zeno is, well he's not typical for District Three, he's, well alright if he was a little bit older I'd have no problem getting into bed with him. Apparently I'm not the only one to think so, as I hear more swoons from the ladies in the room for Zeno then I did for either District One boy, which is quite impressive for him.

Clearly the boy is well aware of his looks as well, as he confidently walks to the stage, a smug smirk all over his face.

I'd swear someone was going to faint as he climbs the steps and winks at the camera before taking his place beside a still shaking Savvy.

The boy is going to be a favourite in the Capitol, that much was obvious, he was sexy, and smug, and apparently comes from one of the Capitols favourite Districts.  
It doesn't surprise me when Zeno beats out several of the careers on the favourites poll, including Raleigh.

Even the escort finds it hard to take her eyes off the boy, as she struts back over to retrieve the next and final slip.

"Toby Alvarez," she announces, still stealing subtle glances towards Zeno.

Toby is the first tribute stood close enough to the stage for the camera to pick up on his peers slowly stepping away from his, as he stands amongst the other 13 year olds, eyes wide, and mouth hanging open.

"Toby, could you come to the stage cutie?" Toby's only response is to start breathing abnormally, in quick, and loud gasps as if he had just resurfaced from the bottom of a lake.

The peacekeepers begin to move in on him, but just as their reaching him he seems to come back to life, slipping past them as he slowly walks towards the stage.

District Three is on a role this year, they've got the sympathy in Savvy, the sex appeal in Zeno, the respect for Maelle, and now they've got the cuteness factor in Toby. It's looking to be a very strong team this year, almost enough to justify the Capitol choosing District Three over a career District. Almost.

Toby doesn't say anything as he slowly takes his spot beside his fellow tributes, though he looks like one of those zombies I've seen in so many movies as of late, eyes blank and a sluggish walk.

The camera zooms out again, to show each of the tributes, and I almost have a sense of hope in District Three, one of the four could be our newest Victor, but I guess we'll have to wait and see.

My eyelids feel like they have doubled in weight by the time District Four appears on the screen, and I guess whoever edits these things knows that people tend to get bored at this point in the program, because they skip right past the repetitive escort and mayor speeches.

As soon as the forgotten name is called out, a girl is running to the stage screaming that she volunteers, elbowing anyone in her way as she makes for the stage.  
It doesn't take her long to reach her destination, but when she does it's not hard to see that she's slightly out of breath.

"Ebba Farley," she pants into the mic, a satisfied smile on her round face as she steps back behind the escort.

There's not much to the girl, other than her dread-headed hair, that looks absolutely hideous if you ask me. But that's not even what sticks out the most about her, it's her disgusting teeth that are shown whenever she smiles at the camera, they're yellow, crooked, and chipped. It's as if no one has ever introduced her to a tooth brush before. Ebba definitely wouldn't be getting any sponsors for her looks, and she obviously wasn't in the best shape, since she could barely run to the stage without heaving up a lung. Some people just were not cut out for the Hunger Games, and yet this silly girl was among the few who had volunteered for it!

The escort calls out another name, but the boy doesn't give the reaped any time to react, as he quickly makes his way to the stage.

Unlike Ebba, this boy has looks, with curly dark hair, and soft blue eyes to match, he was a looker for sure. But the occasional boo from the crowd told me he wasn't a very likeable guy, that and his stony face and gruff voice as he announces his name.

"Atlas Majors." So far, District Four was nothing special, and they only had one more tribute to make up for it.

The escort hasn't even fully read out the name as a smaller girl comes rushing towards the stage, smiling proudly as she bounces up and down, almost toddler like.  
The girl looked to be the height of a 12 year old, but she came out of the 18 year old section, and besides her height, much like Ebba, there was nothing appealing about her appearance. She was bland, and that was not something District Four was known for.

"Dierdre Lewell," the small girl yells into the mic, a little to excited to be normal. I almost wonder if there's something not quite right about her, either that or she's just an idiot and is actually super excited to be going into the Games!

Either way, the escort wraps up the Reaping, and the camera zooms out again to show all three tributes, and once again, I am let down by what District Four has offered up. Atlas is hot, but the boos have turned me off, and Ebba and Dierdre are just, well there's nothing there that gets me excited.

I hate to say this, but I think the Capitol made the right choice in not voting District Four into the top three.

My head begins to pound again, and I only close my eyes for a second when I hear the whisper.

"The stupid bitch can't even stay conscious enough to watch the Reapings, she's useless, why on earth is she Head Gamemaker?"

I open my eyes almost instantly, searching the crowd for whoever said such a thing, but no one makes it obvious, all of their attention directed back on the screen where I can only assume District Five is being shown.

I can't stay in this room any longer though, no matter what Vivian says, I can't do it. I won't sit there and be tormented by those idiots any longer. What I need is a drink.

The thought stirs something inside of me, maybe their right? Maybe I am useless, I have been called it enough in my life. I can't even go an hour without drinking for fucks sakes, but they don't know me, they don't know what I've been through.

I don't even realize I'm shaking until I pull my phone out of my pocket and watch it slip through my vibrating fingers.

I'm not useless, I can do this, I can, and I will.

I just won't drink, it can't be that hard right?

"I'll start right now," I whisper to myself as I walk straight passed the bar, and towards the exits doors, but then I think of her and my body subconsciously turns around and walks straight back into the bar, tears cascading down my face.

I can't do this.

* * *

**Xander, Male, Head Gamemaker**

**Reapings District 5-8**

**Acereader55**

* * *

The clock on the side of the mahogany wooden wall struck the 12, setting off chimes that rang throughout the room, indicating that a new hour had begun. I glanced quietly around the large room, taking in the intricate designs of the patters on the walls and the carved shapes of the wood. The large, flat screen television is mounted on the wall in front of the couch that I currently sit on, a commercial broadcasting advertising a make-up a removal product.

The Reapings for District Four had just come to a close, and now idiotic and irrelevant commercials were playing on the screen before me. Commercials bored me to no end, as I'm sure they bore most sane people, so I chose to ignore them and rather stare blankly at the walls waiting for my program to return.

Most Capitolites would be out partying and celebrating the broadcasting of the Reapings, but I am unlike the average Capitol person. I prefer to stay at home, alone, in the confines of my rather grand penthouse apartment and study the tributes individually as they are called to the stage one by one.

If I am to torture and potentially kill some of these teenagers right in front of me on this large screen, they deserve at least my attention for an hour or so as they are called up to their death. I may as well study them while I'm at it too, because who knows, I may be able to use what I see to my advantage to gain that all important Head Gamemaker position.

I am suddenly startled when something brushes up against the side of my leg. I bend over and peer into the eyes of my black cat, Mystic. I lean down and pick her up by her belly and place her on my lap as I begin to stroke her as she purrs happily.

It's rather depressing that I have Mystic with me as she was once Genova's lovely black kitten. But sadly, Genova could no longer take care of the mysterious cat.

Speaking of Genova, I am still unsure of what has happened to her. Executed, probably. Or worse. She could very possibly be being tortured in a basement at this exact moment, and knowing that I am the one that put her there is rather… unsettling.

As morbid as it sounds, I am rather glad that Genova was the one that was pursued and caught and not me. Better someone else be tortured and executed than me, even if it was my long time assistant and friend. Sometimes I do miss her constant chatter and mindless giggles, but alas those times are gone and there is nothing I can do now about that other than take care of the last remaining thing I have of her- Mystic.

The flat screen television suddenly lights up with apparent enthusiasm and I am greeted with the face of the lovely Capitol presenter who is announcing and following the Reapings are they are aired.

"And we are back from the short commercial break," the announcer says. His sandy brown hair is slicked back so that his unusually large forehead is protruding front and center on the screen. "We will continue the Reapings for the Fourth Quarter Quell right now with the broadcasting of District Five's Reapings, Please enjoy and feel free to start placing your bets on these tributes and all of the other ones that you have already had the pleasure of seeing!"

The announcer's pale and unappealing face is soon replaced with the words 'District Five' written in electric blue dancing across the screen. The words fade away and the wooden stage that belongs to District Five is shown. The Mayor is already at the microphone at center stage. Wasting no time, he begins to read the Treaty of Treason and I immediately tune him out. I have no time for trivial little speeches that I've heard hundreds of times.

When the incredibly boring speech concludes, the Escort for District Five replaces the slightly older Mayor at the microphone and begins the process for which I've been waiting.

"Hello District Five!" The Escort screams into the microphone expecting a large and excited response from the crowd, but instead he receives nothing more than a cough and a sneeze from the sea of district citizens. His enthusiasm visibly falters, but he regains his composure and plasters the fake smile back on his overly stretched face. "As you all know, this is the Fourth Quarter Quell. This year, the Capitol has voted on how many tributes each District will be sending in. District Five was in the third tier for the voting and will not be receiving any chance to the number of tributes you usually send in. Without further ado, I will now reap the two tributes that will attend the 100th Annual Hunger Games!"

The Escort walks over to one of the Reaping bowls on the stage and dips his long, pasty arm into the bowl. After shuffling the papers around for longer than he should, he grabs the first slip and carefully walks back to center stage, unfolding the small piece of paper as he moves.

"Aluma Rye!"

The sixteen year old section begins to part down the middle and suddenly a girl is exposed. Nothing about the appearance of the girl stands out or screams unique. Her curly black hair runs down her back and bounces as she silently walks towards the steps of the stage. I cannot register any sort of emotion on her face; she doesn't cry, she doesn't scream, and she doesn't look surprised at the fact that she was reaped.

By the time she gets up to the stage, I can see her facial features more clearly. Her face and body posture says that she's not afraid, but her brown eyes scream terrified, and that she isn't ready to face all of the other tributes in the arena.

"Wonderful, thank you for coming to the stage quickly," the Escort comments, and quickly shuffles his way back over to the second Reaping bowl. Once again, he takes far too long to grab just a single slip of paper, and when he finally brings it back to the microphone I am ecstatic that this Reaping is almost over.

"Gideon Challene."

Immediately a dry, hoarse laugh is heard from the sea of sixteen years olds, followed by what sounds to be like wails. The camera struggles to find where the Reaped boy is, but the camera quickly does its job after the sixteen year olds clear the area from where the Reaped boy is, as if he has some contagious disease.

After the camera finds him, I notice Gideon is on his knees, slamming his fists into the dirty ground as his body racks with the sobs that are escaping from his mouth. The boy makes no attempt to get up and come to the stage, so the Peacekeepers are forced to intervene. One Peacekeeper rushes faster than the others and manages to pull the boy up from his knees, and it appears he may have said something to Gideon as he was helping him up. It appears we have an interesting relationship there, as Peacekeepers don't often fraternize with District people.

As Gideon is being escorted to the stage, I can assess his features more clearly. He is of average height, but he is definitely underweight. No surprise there, as most lower district people are malnourished. He has short cropped black hair and as the camera zooms in on his face, I can see that he also has brown eyes, much like Aluma.

The Peacekeepers drop him onto the stage and, thankfully, he stands up instead of staying on his knees and crying some more.

"District Five, your tributes for the Fourth Quarter Quell- Aluma Rye and Gideon Challene!"

Aluma and Gideon shake hands quickly and as the Escort guides them off the stage, the screen goes black. District Five is now complete, now time for District Six's Reapings to commence.

"How wonderful was that?" I am displeased to see the announcer's face back onto the screen as I was expecting District Six to commence straight away. Perhaps they are changing it up this year. "Aluma and Gideon definitely seem like contenders, maybe District Five will manage to snag a victor this year! Without further delay, here is the ever fantastic District Six and their Reapings!"

The face of the presenter fades away slowly and is replaced with silver and bronze letters spelling out "District Six." Soon, the writing also fades away and I suddenly am viewing the grey and rather dull sky of District Six.

Instead of watching the Mayor and listen to his boring speech and the Escort's boring introduction, I choose to flip the channels around and watch whatever might be on at this time, daring to try and get ratings against the Reapings for a Quarter Quell. I settle on a cooking show and watch the host explain how to make a cinnamon dough, which does look delightful.

After several minutes of watching dough be made, I flip the channel back to the Reapings station and, behold, the Reapings are about to commence. Once again, there are two glass Reaping bowls to represent how many tributes this district will be reaping, and the Escort sashays over to the first bowl and dips her long, slender fingers into the bowl. She grasps onto a small slip of paper and makes her way back over to the microphone at the center of the stage.

"Tatum Albright."

Yet again, another sixteen year old has been reaped. They all move away from the Reaped girl, and soon the camera zooms in on her and allows me to see her reaction very clearly. She does begin to walk towards the stage without any assistance from the Peacekeepers, which is always a good sign, but I can see silent tears of worry streaming down the side of her pale cheeks. Definitely not as strong as she would like to appear to be.

Her light brown hair is tied up into a very high ponytail and her light blue skirt is blowing with the breeze. When she takes her place on stage next to the overly vivacious escort, I can see all of her limbs violently shaking, causing her hair to bounce uncontrollably and making her seem like she is very weak.

"Onto the next one." The Escort makes her way over to the second bowl that is filled with even more District Six citizen's names, and this time she quickly plucks a slip out of the bowl and makes her way back to where she feels most comfortable: center stage.

"Aston Moroque."

Breaking the streak of sixteen year olds being sent to the Games, the fifteen year old section splits apart and a boy of average height and weight is revealed. Adding onto his already average appearance is an even more average look: Short dark brown hair, brown eyes that are seen once the camera pans in, and an average looking face. Nothing screams unique or memorable, which may help the kid in the Arena, but certainly won't help him win over any sponsors. I notice the poor boy is shaking as he finishes reaching the stage, matching the already shaking Tatum.

The escort asks them to shake hands for the cameras, and once they do, the screen fades to black and this time, the announcer isn't seen on screen in between the Districts. Must be short on time.

My eyes are now watching letters appear on the screen in brown and green writing, symbolizing the many trees and the nature setting that District Seven provides. The camera pans down from the and sky and we are greeted with the maple and oak trees that surround the District Seven Square. Apparently because they are running short on time in this segment, they cut the Mayor giving his speech and the Escort introducing herself.

Her legs are visibly struggling to walk in those ridiculously high heeled shoes, and she does eventually trip slightly as she walks towards the first Reaping Bowl, which gains quite a few chuckles and sneers from the crowd of eighteen year olds right in front of the stage. However, the Escort recovers and gains her balance and manages to make it to the first bowl without anymore mishaps, grabbing a slip by the fingernails and pulling it out, making other small pieces of paper spill out of the bowl. She wobbles back over to center stage and carefully unfolds the slip of paper containing the name of the first tribute reaped.

"Lavender Vargas."

A section towards the back of the crowd, the fourteen year old section I believe, parts around a rather small and what looks to be a malnourished girl. She appears to have plain features; medium length brown hair, brown eyes, average face, and it appears she will be rather forgettable. As if reading my thoughts, she makes herself stand out more than she ever would have when she punches a peacekeeper that came towards her in the lower regions and makes the poor officer of peace drop to his knees in pain.

Seeing this as her only opportunity, she begins to run away from the stage and towards the outer edges of the crowd, probably to some family member that she wants to go to for comfort. However, before she can get remotely close to the barricades, more Peacekeepers flock around her and eventually overpower her, dragging her and her aggressive nature all the way to the stage. They plop her down next to the Escort and she stands on the stage, arms crossed, eyes shooting daggers at the Escort who has now moved on to the second Reaping bowl.

"Shay Langford."

This time, the fifteen year old section begins to part around a young boy that is quaking with fear and begins to shrink under the harsh eyes of the District people and the cameras all projecting him on the screen behind the stage. However, when he sees the Peacekeepers moving towards him from both sides, he picks himself up and brushes the dirt off of his pants, and then begins to walk all the way to the stage, slowly, but at least the Peacekeepers didn't have to drag him there.

When he gets to the stage, the camera zooms in on his face and I am met with a pasty skinned young boy. He has shortened brown hair and green eyes, and he seems rather small for someone of his age, even slightly smaller than the younger girl that was just reaped before him. As he stands on stage, I can see him looking out towards the crowd but at what I cannot be certain.

The camera quickly pans from the two already reaped tributes back to the Escort, who is now back at the microphone at center stage and is carefully unfolding the white tiny slip of paper with her delicate and manicured fingers.

"Phoebe Ryder."

A few of the males in the older sections wolf whistle and whip their heads back towards the middle of the crowd, towards the sixteen year old section. The teenagers in that section begin to shift and move away from the reaped girl, and eventually she is found amongst the crowd and camera angles in so we can see her.

She is a rather attractive person for someone of her age, and I can understand why the wolf whistles were uttered. She is wearing a rather revealing set of clothing, and the way she walks doesn't help to denounce the image I've already gotten in my head about her. She walks confidently and steadily towards the stage where the Escort is clapping with delight at the prospect of having reaped a girl with a chance at the crown.

Phoebe's long, light brown hair is flowing with the breeze as she stands on the stage next to Shay and Lavender, and gives a wink to someone that I cannot identify. Clearly, someone of importance that she wanted to give a subtle hint to that she was okay and wasn't afraid of what was to come. This girl definitely has potential, if she can play her cards correctly.

"Our final tribute is up next!" The Escort practically squeals with delight as she carefully and steadily shuffles her feet in those high heels over to the last remaining bowl and plucks out one last slip of paper from the bowl. She quickly shuffles her way back to the microphone and opens up the slip of paper with a high amount of care.

"Regan Volke."

The Escort practically falls off the stage in excitement as the front of the crowd begins to part around a rather strong looking eighteen year old. The camera zooms in onto Regan's face and I can see a smile curling at the edges of his lips. Soon enough, he is laughing a hearty and maniacal laugh that does send shivers down my spine. It's very clear that he isn't sane and that someone is very excited at the prospect of being able to kill many people without any repercussions.

As he walks up to the stage I can see that he has rather longer black hair for a boy, and he has brown eyes that are sending daggers to the crowd as he walks towards Phoebe, who is visibly disturbed at the laughter that Regan let escape from his lips. He continues chuckling as the Escort introduces the tributes from District Seven for one last time.

"District Seven, your tributes for the Fourth Quarter Quell- Lavender Vargas, Shay Langford, Phoebe Ryder, and Regan Volke!"

The screen once again fades away to black, but it is immediately replaced by orange and black cursive handwriting spelling out District Eight. This is the last reaping before another break in between the final four districts, which are only reaping a small amount of tributes anyways.

"Eira Gray."

I'm snapped out of my thoughts as the first tribute from Eight has already been reaped. I'm surprised that they are going so fast with the Reapings, but I guess they must really be very short on time because usually they show the Escort getting the paper from the bowl, or maybe I just zoned out and didn't watch that part.

The girl that is reaped is from the seventeen year old section, and looks malnourished. She is of average height for someone of her age and District, and she has long black hair that she has tied back into some sort of intricate braid. She appears to be thinking about something for a long time as she just stands there with no emotion on her face and nothing appears to be inclining her to move towards the stage.

The Peacekeepers have no choice but to flock around her and force her towards the stage as the blank, pensive look on her face remains on her face and doesn't change the whole time. They silently place her on the stage next to the Escort who is staring at Eira with a confused look on her face. She quickly shakes the confused look on her face off and replaces it with a flashing smile, and makes her way over to the second bowl to reap the next tribute.

"Armada Pruitt."

The thirteen year old section all the way in the back of the square begins to part. A small boy makes his way out of the crowd of other little children and begins to walk forward with almost no hesitation. He seems very composed and I cannot see any sense of urgency or sadness in his facial expression or body language. He gets to the stage rather quickly and takes his place next to Eira, who still has not changed his expression. His brown eye are hardened as he looks out into the crowd, and the breeze begins to blow against his short, light brown hair.

"Avrie L'reaux."

The name peaks my interest completely, as it doesn't sound like something you'd normally hear from District Eight. However, the girl does look slightly malnourished ad the camera pans over to her pale face and body, and I can definitely tell she is from this District. Her fiery red hair is straightened and flows down her back in a cascading fiery waterfall.

She walks up silently to the stage and doesn't make a scene like some other tributes would have, and she stands next to Armada, towering over him. In fact, she is rather tall for someone of her district, age, and gender. Maybe that can play to her advantage.

"District Eight, your tributes for the Fourth Quarter Quell- Eira Gray, Armada Pruitt, and Avrie L'reaux!"

The screen fades to black once more and I quickly get up from my seat and wander into the kitchen, opening the starch white fridge and finding the large bottle of expensive wine. I pop the cork open and pour myself a generous helping of wine, and store the wine back in the fridge to chill it.

As I wander my way back into the room where my television is placed, I take a large sip from my glass of win and stare at the bottom of it. This is the first of many glasses I'll be having over the course of the next few weeks. This will be the longest Games of my life…

* * *

**Roan, Male, Head Gamemaker**

**Reapings District 9-12**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"What do you think so far, sir?" Devan asks me eagerly. "Anyone in particular that has caught your eye?"

"Of course," I answer simply, not wavering my gaze from the screen that takes up the entire wall of my office. Though there is a slight intermission, and of course I don't mean to be rude to him, I am not the type to share my thoughts with anyone. Especially Devan, who can come off as far too eager to please for my tastes. I had hoped I would've been able to choose my own assistant, but Devan was waiting for me here as soon as I had gotten the keys to the room.

Nonetheless, he reminds me of myself. What little I have allowed myself to learn about the boy's history is almost an exact replication of my own. One year after I was given the job in the Muttations Lab, Devan began work in the coding lab where the arena is born out of pure mathematical and scientific processes. It's truly a gift to be able to manipulate all of the different aspects that make up an arena, so if nothing else I know that I will have a leg up on the other two Gamemakers at least in this sense.

I chuckle to myself, covering my smile with a slight cough as I notice Devan turning towards me. We've proved already to make quite the team. I put Devan to work, crafting plans to present at the meeting next week, late last night only to be woken up a couple hours later by a frantic phone call. Apparently Devan was able to pinpoint another user attempting to access the files he was creating.

He told me he could easily override their system and, assuming that the hacker was working for one of Gemma or Xander, wipe their database. I, however, chose to be kind. Maybe it was the flattery that someone would go to all that trouble to try and steal an idea that they knew, without even seeing it, would be better than theirs.

I told Devan to cache the files containing anything he has worked on the past few nights and replace it with something he thought fitting. I knew as soon as Devan decided on placing the coding for the third Hunger Games arena as a decoy that he and I would work marvellously together. Not only will whoever it is look foolish for suggesting an arena that has already been done exactly, but the coding has progressed so far in these ninety-seven years that their competency will also be questioned.

Why give my colleagues any reason to seek revenge on me for wiping their computer systems when it would be so much more appropriate to watch them destroy themselves with their own stupidity.

Against Gemma and Xander, this was never going to be a fair race. I hope they do better to try and outdo me in the future, because it was almost sad for them to think that I would not have my files cached in such a way that even if Devan wouldn't have seen the intrusion that they would have been able to find my plans. Truthfully I hope this effort was from Gemma, I would expect something this juvenile from the lightweight drunk. I hope to have more competition with Xander, otherwise this entire thing is going to be exceedingly boring.

"Welcome back to the Reapings for the Fourth Quarter Quell! We have already met our courageous tributes that will be representing districts one through eight, but there are still five more brave young men and women to acknowledge. Now sending you lovely people over to District Nine, I'm Aeries Coloumb of Panem News."

Devan nudges me and I shoot him a glare, wiping the eager smile off of his lips. He bows his head sheepishly and whispers, "it's back on, sir."

"Thank you," I say without turning away from the screen. While I admire Devan's go-getter attitude, I know that it is also going to annoy me to no end during the next few weeks. While I might not appreciate his disposition, I don't quite want to snap him out of it either. Truthfully, I know it will serve him well over the next few years in this field of work. There is nothing the higher-ups like more than feeling important, and Devan is quite good at doing just that.

District Nine is exactly how I remember it being in each year past, nothing but the bleak, dusty sort of building that is the trademark of every district. The Justice Building and a very small area of what is beyond it is all that viewers are able to see each year. I understand that the typical Capitolite will not wonder about what is past that small area, but I haven't been able to help it ever since I was a child watching the Reapings.

Perhaps that is something else that will separate myself from Gemma and Xander. The fact that I understand that the tributes we are sent each year are real people with families, issues, hopes, and fears, just like people here. I see so many Head Gamemakers fall victim to just thinking that the Hunger Games viewers respond to violence. A large part of the competition is simply that, but after years of watching, both the tributes and people's reactions to them, I have formulated the perfect approach to balancing the violence with good television.

Make the audience fall in love with the tributes as characters in a story. Force them to feel for their heightened emotions, to have their hearts race when his or her favourite is in danger, to have real tears come to their eyes as they listen to them form relationships with their allies. I want to make them think of these tributes are real children. Then and only then will I rip them away by any violent or gruesome end I see fit.

"The Fourth Quarter Quell has dictated that only one tribute will be sent from District Nine this year, so a single name will be drawn from a bowl containing all eligible names," Henna reads with an almost robotic-like voice. I remember hearing that we had a couple of new escorts being sent into the outer districts this year to see how they do. By the looks of things, Henna will not be back next year. She is a lovely young girl, probably no older than twenty, with a face like porcelain and lips the color of rubies, but escorts are supposed to be charismatic to the nth degree and more. Henna is anything but, standing there shaking in her five inch heels, her knees knocking together as if she too belonged in that District Nine crowd instead of onstage.

She looks up, and I begin to think that her looks alone might allow her to keep this job, but then speaks again with possibly less emotion than before. "I will now draw the first and only name."

She steps over carefully to the single glass bowl sitting in the middle of the stage. "Representing District Nine we have, Matilda Prescott. Would you please come forward?"

It doesn't take the camera very long to find the girl, a rather pretty blonde who I guess to be about seventeen or so, standing near the outer edge of the crowd. The girl beside her looks distraught as Matilda digs her nails into her arm, finally pulling away from her as Matilda begins to walk around to the stage.

The room around me is silent, a perfect match to the atmosphere I am witnessing in District Nine as their only tribute makes the walk to centre stage. After a few steps, quiet laughter can be heard coming from the girl. Not an unusual reaction to the news that out of all the eligible children around you, your name has been called. The odds aren't favoured for it to be one particular person, but someone has to be picked each year. That seems to be lost to the district people, that no matter how unlikely it is- someone still is chosen every year. One should prepare for the possibility so they don't shoot their chances so quickly like Matilda may have.

Poor reactions make tributes look weak, and weak tributes hardly ever do well.

"She seems like she could do well," Daven says, just as he has in more or less the same words for every tribute that has been chosen since the Reapings began. I can understand his neutrality on his expression of opinion, seeing as his superior is sitting right beside him.

I decide to remedy his uncertainty this time. "She appears nervous, which means she is likely to be weak."

"That's what I thought too," he says sheepishly and I almost feel bad for responding at all. That is the problem with Devan, he is too childish to take seriously but I feel sorry for snapping at him all the same.

I ignore the feeling that I should apologize and turn back to the screen, gone is the dreary image of Matilda and Henna- the perfect image, it seems, of District Nine's continuous failure in the Hunger Games. Instead I see an almost identical picture, but the faint sound of cowbells that fills both my office and the district tells me that we are now on District Ten.

I don't remember the name of the District Ten escort, though I believe she is from last year at least. She is older and I have to admit less beautiful than Henna, but the smile on her face is what I would expect of someone in her position. Her lace-gloved hands are daintily paired in front of her and she addresses the crowd with an almost sickeningly sugary voice.

"This year, for the Fourth Quarter Quell, District Ten has the honour of once again sending in one brave young man and one courageous young woman to represent their home. Without any further a due, I will draw the lucky young lady's name."

This girl, whoever she is, could certainly teach Henna a thing or two about addressing an audience. Though I must admit, I think as I look at the rather plain looking lace dress draping across her shoulders, Henna does have a step up in the looks department.

"This year, Miss Corlis Kembrey will be representing District Ten." She reads, her lips curling more and more with each word. "Where are you, sweetheart?"

There is a shriek from the crowd and out of the corner of my eye I can see Devan flinch. I chuckle as the affair unfolds on the screen. The camera is able to catch only the back of a tall blonde girl's head as she makes a dash for the exit before she disappears entirely. The crowd gasps and a trio of white-clad Peacekeepers rush in to retrieve her. Within seconds they pull the pretty blonde off of the ground and into the aisle.

When the cameras are able to take a more stable view of the girl, it is easy to see the bloody scrape on her left knee as well as the defeated look plastered on her pale face. The Peacekeepers drop her off at the base of the stage and the microphone just barely picks up the quiet 'thank you' that escapes from her lips.

"How darling!" The escort says, eyeing Corlis with what is probably a pretty terrifying look up close. It never seems to reflect well on a tribute when they run, though there is always at least one or two a year that try it. "Now to choose the young man that will accompany Miss Kembrey to the Capitol."

"I invite Hunter Mathot to please join me on the stage here, please," she says, her face not quite returning to the wide smile she had before Corlis' scene. She looks around expectantly for a moment before her eyes light up.

The screen moves to show a rather handsome looking boy, probably no older than sixteen or seventeen, striding towards the stage, his face the very picture of calm. That is what it would look like to most people that were watching, but I can recognize the look in his eyes not as calm but as something else altogether. Smug, the kid actually has managed to look like it was him that planned his own Reaping all along. Since the intermission, this is the first tribute that has caught my eye. This guy has the visible mentality of a Victor.

The image of District Ten fades from the screen a few seconds after Hunter reaches the stage, a look of visible disgust on his face when asked to shake his district partner's hand.

"I can tell you like one of them, sir," Devan says as the screen prepares to dive into District Eleven. "That look in your eye tells me so."

"We will all have our favourites, Devan," I say simply. "That's how Victors are born."

The scene in District Eleven is much bleaker than any of the other districts. I remember this district well, being one of two that I had the pleasure of visiting when going on research term for my technician's course. I spent a month living out of a hovercraft with another student, studying some of the only wildlife that has remained untouched by Panem for so many decades. The creatures I came by shed so much light on a subject I hadn't been initially sure I wanted to pursue. The mutts I have created since that expedition have been not only terrifying and bloodthirsty, but also majestic and dare I say real. They were not just programmed beasts that would kill, they had routines and niches that made them just as incredible to watch as the Hunger Games themselves.

But sadly one of the other things I remember from that trip, despite only having briefly spent time in the actual district, was that it was the most poorly kept part of Panem that has ever existed. There are great crowds of people in the streets at all hours, only spots of white Peacekeepers to keep things civil. I've never seen someone starving before that, it just simply does not happen in the Capitol, but I saw all too much of it there.

I almost feel happiness for the child that will be chosen today, because at least they will not be returning back to that hell-bent place to waste away with the rest of their peers.

"And now it has come that time again where I will choose the brave young person that will alone represent District Eleven in the Fourth Quarter Quell." Another new escort, this time at least she appears to have some sort of handle on her nerves. I can understand why these new escorts were given the districts that only had to reap a single tribute each, otherwise I would fear one of them collapsing from the shear excitement.

"This year's lucky tribute that will bear District Eleven's pride on their back in this year's Hunger Games is," she says, taking a bit too long of a dramatic pause. "Winifred Herring."

For a second there is only silence, before my head is nearly split in two by what might possibly be the highest-pitched scream I have ever had the displeasure of hearing in my lifetime. Then it starts again, the seemingly unavoidable chase that the young girl forces the Peacekeepers on. I can hardly catch a good view of her as she darts between the white-clad men, switching directions continuously until by simple good luck she runs directly into one of them.

Again she shrieks, a sickening sound, and punches at air while trying desperately to land a small fist on her capturer. The Peacekeeper, who looks almost as unhappy about holding the young girl as she seems to be about being held, hands her off to another who whispers something in her ear. She screams again and then suddenly her limbs stop flailing and her eyes half-close.

To most it would seem as if the young girl simply ran out of energy, but anyone that was really looking would have seen the tranquilizer bury into her shoulder. Of course, no one but me is likely to be watching closely enough to see that minute detail.

"Two runners in the last few districts, seems like a pattern's developing," Devan tries in vain to copy my arrogant tone. "Two weak ones, I guess."

"Not quite," I say, my face breaking out in a slight smile despite myself. "The first girl, Corlis, made it probably six to ten feet at most. Winifred nearly outran and outsmarted a troop of Peacekeepers. The fact that she almost got away, well, I'll let you figure out what that means for yourself."

Devan sighs beside me and I chastise myself for being so hard on him. Of course I know that he is only trying to win my approval, but he should know that that is not something that is very easily gained.

The last district always seems to be the most boring of all of them. No matter that Districts Ten and Eleven always seem to have rather weak tributes, but those from District Twelve tend to be just plain bland. At least the weak ones are able to be broken and moulded into a character, albeit far too easily, but the bland ones are nearly unchangeable. Oh well, at least there is only one of these District Twelve tributes to deal with this year.

"This year, District Twelve has the honour of sending just one tribute to represent their lovely home in the 100th Hunger Games." This escort I recognize from previous years. Jule is one of the older escorts, around age forty or so, and also likely one of the best. She has gone through probably countless surgeries to achieve the looks of a woman in her early-twenties, the only thing to give her away being her impossibly stiff smile.

One dainty hand pulls a slip of paper off the top of the pile contained within the single Reaping bowl. With a sigh she allows her eyes to glaze slowly over the writing before she clears her throat and claims her tribute. "Representing District Twelve this year will be Miss Xylia Devrine. Is she here?"

It takes a couple of minutes before Xylia can be identified, since no one in the crowd seems to move a muscle. Finally, a thin girl with dark hair piled on top of her head steps out into the aisle and the cameras immediately are upon her. She wears a blank expression, lips pressed into a tight line that is just barely visible with the sun shining on her pale face. There is not a sound to be heard as she steps quickly up the steps to meet Jule on the stage.

I flick the screen off and Devan flinches again. He looks at me expectantly and I calmly pull my chair back behind my desk where it belongs. He looks lost for a while as I toy with the folders on my desk, then pull at the cord to turn my lamp on.

"Do you want to discuss the tributes, maybe some possibilities for arena modifications to fit with them individually? I could work up the plans for a few test models if you'd like to see them?"

"Actually, I'll do that. You may go work on the original coding that I assigned you last night." I say dismissively, nodding towards the shut door.

"Oh, um, but I finished that, sir," he says, the eagerness all but gone from his voice. I can understand that he wants to be as much a part of this as I am, but the plain truth is that he isn't.

"Then go fix the bugs in it, I checked this morning and found several," I say more sharply than I had meant to. I sit down at my chair and open one of my files, knowing that at one point or another he will get the hint and leave. I will not lie, I am beginning to like Devan, but I will not allow this possible friendship to get in the way of my profession. Work has and will always be more important than any relationship I could ever forge. I refuse to let anyone get in the way or my success, not ever again.

"I will do that," he says quietly, gathering up his things into a small briefcase and heading towards the exit. "Goodnight, sir."

Then the door closes and I am left to myself and my work, just how it has always been and just how I like it.

* * *

**Song: Prisoner of Today by Billy Talent.**

* * *

**A/N: Hi all, it's Olive again. I hope you enjoyed reading the (always terrible to write) Reapings. Bad news is this chapter is out a couple days later than we had originally planned. Good news is the Reapings are done and over with and we can get on with much more interesting times. **

**I hope hearing from the Gamemakers again didn't bore you too much, but plan on hearing a bit more from them as the story progresses.**

* * *

**Hopefully you will all drop a review and let us know what you thought, it would be very much appreciated to know how we are doing and how we can each improve as well as to hear the answers to the following questions. **

_**Which tributes stood out the most?**_

_**Which tributes do you look forward to hearing from the most?**_

* * *

**Also a note to any of the submitters that recalls that their tribute was originally a non-Career volunteer. We decided that for the more realistic dive into the story we would wipe these and reap all tributes from outer districts. If you would like a better explanation I would be happy to provide one if you message me privately. **

**Until next time. **


	5. Aces

**Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys**

_Are there some aces up your sleeve?  
Have you no idea that you're in deep?_

* * *

**Zeno King, 17, District Three**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

This place is unlike anything I have ever seen in my life. As I step onto the sturdy floor it is like I can feel the difference between my district life and the Capitol life. One being so unsteady and unsure, and the next being so certain and comfortable. Despite the events of the last hour, I can feel a blast of excitement coming over me.

"Wow," one of the girls says as she steps into the car behind me. I can't remember either of the girl's names but I know this one is the older of the two. The younger one steps on right after her, tangled blonde hair covering most of her forehead. It's easy to tell that this one comes from the region south of mine, most of the kids that are from that area look like her- a little rough around the edges to say the least. The other two appear to be a bit more relatable to myself, primped and preened for Reaping day.

"Welcome, make yourselves at home," the escort woman coos, motioning her arms elaborately to show off the beautiful train car. "Everything here is here just for you."

I can't help but follow her motions, my eyes grazing over the trays of strange, small foods and the endless cushions and couches. I'd bet that at least twenty or more people could sit comfortably on here, and yet there is only the seven of us. Four tributes, two mentors, and one escort, though I think that her dress will probably need more than one seat to be contained.

The two girls move almost in sync towards opposite ends of the train car, the younger one taking a few tentative looks at the tray of food before grabbing some sort of bread with red gel coming out the top of it. Personally I'd say that the trays look more like art displays than food and I am less than keen on trying any of it for a while, at least until my stomach settles.

The older girl finds a quiet corner of the car and sits hesitantly on the edge of a comfy looking bench. She glances back at me and Toby before focusing herself on the passing trees that play endlessly from the window.

After a second or two, Toby too makes his way towards one of the window seats and I find myself following him.

"Uh, hi," he says when I move to sit down beside him.

"Hi," I reply quickly, then consider his awkward tone. "Sorry did you want to sit by yourself, kid?"

"No it's okay," he nods and bites his lip.

"So what's your name?" I ask even though I already know. I figure a question is probably better to break the ice than just outright telling him his own name. "I'm Zeno."

"I remember you," he nods again. "I'm Toby."

"Ah, nice name," I nod as well. I didn't realize how awkward this would be or else I probably would have left him alone. "How are you doing, Toby?"

He cracks a small smile. "Pretty alright, I guess. How about you?"

"I'm not going to lie, I'm doing a lot better than I thought I would. The nice accommodations are helping quite a bit too."

He nods and turns to the window. Without the awkward eye contact I am able to take him in a lot better, especially his size. He's a small guy, probably a good five or six inches shorter than me and a whole lot thinner as well. His skin is that dark olive tone that seems to be rare in the rather pale District Three. He is definitely the youngest of the four of us, but his demeanour tells me that he is probably also the most calm at the moment.

"How old are you, Toby?" I ask and almost immediately regret it when he doesn't answer right away.

Then, without looking away from the window he responds. "Thirteen."

I feel a pang of sadness by the way he says it, almost as an admission of guilt. I can understand it, I guess, seeing as the youngest Victor that I can recall ever winning the Hunger Games was fourteen, a year older than him. Still, I admire him for not crying. I remember being his age, crying was something I did a lot back then.

When I think about those times that I would get over emotional at a failed grade or a warning from my mother that my marks were slipping, I can't help but admire Toby just a little bit more. If he were my age I would want to be the one placing bets on his victory.

I decide not to pry anymore, mostly out of fear that I will get attached to Toby. He is a very interesting kid, someone that reminds me of Josh and Bria when I first met them. That scares me a lot more than it brings me closer to him though, because my own chances of getting out of the Games alive are fairly slim with the number of Careers that are going to be in the arena. Having a little one to look out for won't help me and unfortunately won't save him.

I drop my head against the wall beside me and stare out the window. No one else seems to be talking yet and maybe it is best if it stays like that for a little while. Not even one of the three of my fellow tributes seems like they will be a helpful ally so there is no use in getting close to them. Without anyone to talk to this is going to be a very long ride to the Capitol.

* * *

**Ebba Farley, 18, District Four**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

My finger quickly taps at the arm of the chair, over and over again, it being the only noise to break the tension-filled silence of the room.

Our mentors have left us alone to 'get to know each other' as they went to discuss strategy, which probably means they're off eating or getting drunk, who knows.

I don't really care much for either of my District partners, Dierdre is a little bit too excitable for my liking, and Atlas, well I've heard about him around District Four.

"This is just plain awkward," I joke, getting a small chuckle out of Dierdre. Atlas looks up, but stays silent, staring at me with harsh eyes.

"I've heard about you," I say, not backing down from his gaze.

Again he doesn't respond, other than a quick grin before returning his gaze to out the window.

"Yeah I'm out of here," I sigh, standing up and heading towards the door.

"Can I come?" Dierdre asks, and I nod in agreement.

We walk along the extended hallway, neither saying a word until it becomes uncomfortable.

"Atlas seems nice," Dierdre nods in response, her attitude definitely calming down since the reaping. When she volunteered, she was a little ball of energy, and even in front of our mentors she was happy as could be, but since being left alone with me and Atlas, she has dropped the smile and kept to herself.

I couldn't care less though, she can be as fake as she wants in front of the cameras, as long as she stays out of my way.

"What weapon do you use?"

"Bow," she mumbles almost hesitantly, beginning to slow down a little.

"Easier to kill, good choice."

I slow down as well, in order to keep in line with her, but she picks up speed, pulling away from me.

"Why did you come with me if you're gonna act like this?" I ask, though it's not really any of my concern.

"Would you wanna be left alone in a room with Atlas? And I'll have you know my bow takes as much skills to use as whatever pathetic weapon you use," she spits, and

I'm taken back. This girl needs to chill it with the mood swings.

"Trident."

"Excuse me?"

"I use a trident."

"How original," she chuckles, before turning on her heels and retreating into the nearest room.

What the heck just happened? One minute I was walking along the hall with a bearable girl, and the next I was being flipped on for no apparent reason!

Whatever, I think, walking past the door she had disappeared into, in search of something to do.

The first door I open reveals a large kitchen, many people hustling around. It's only a few seconds later that I'm being yelled at to get out.

Uninterested in pissing anyone else off, I quickly shut the door and continue my trek down the hall, until I stumble upon another door.

Pushing through, I'm pleasantly surprised to find what appears to be a dining room.  
There's a large table set dead centre of the room, a large chandelier hung up just above it, and that's about it.

There's a few small tables scattered around the room, but that's not what I'm interested in. I'm interested in the multi-level tray sat upon the table, filled with any and every treat I could imagine.

I rush over to it, wasting no time in inhaling the first thing my hand touches; a soft chocolate brownie with coloured pieces of chocolate covering the top.

It's so good, I can't help but grab another one, and another, until the whole tray is gone.

I move onto the next tray, stuffing what ever creme-filled pastry it is down my throat, not stopping until I've made a good dent in that tray too.

My stomach hurts, but I know I'll be hungry again shortly, that's something I've always dealt with, being hungry more than the average person, and therefore weighing more than the average person, but whatever, it is what it is.

A thought hits me just as I'm about to grab another pastry, how awesome would it be to be in my very position right now, but after a few tokes.

The munchies would be no match to this...well I don't even know what to call it, it's orgasmic!

If only Dylan or Maisie could see this, they'd have a heart attack, which would be kind of bad but that's not the point.

But no, none of them are brave enough to volunteer, so here I am, stuck on this stupid train with no one but Atlas and Dierdre for company. I'd rather stick to myself, and that's saying something because normally I hate being by myself.

I'm distracted by my thoughts when I look over at the window, and notice that it's been left open just a crack.

Idiots, they're lucky I actually want to be here, or I'd be throwing myself out that window in a heartbeat. Wait..

I rush over to the window, cranking it open enough to fit my whole head through, my dreads flying in the wind.

The adrenaline rush kicks in, and the warm feeling inside of me returns. This is where I'm happiest, on the edge, adrenaline running through my body.

I wonder how much of myself I can get out of this window...

I take a step back and push as hard as I can until the window is just about halfway open, then I turn around, grab the top of the window, and heave my body up until my top half is completely out the window, and my butt is sitting on the ledge.

Now this is the edge, I laugh as I fling my head back, bathing in the sun, and the wind, relishing in the adrenaline running through my body.

This makes everything worth it, volunteering, having to put up with Atlas and Dierdre for who knows how long. Had I not volunteered, I'd probably have never experienced this kind of rush, and I'm not even in the Games yet.

This is going to be the best time of my life.

* * *

**Eira Gray, 17, District Eight**

**Acereader55**

* * *

The Escort continues to blab nonsense at Armada, Avrie, and I as the train moves at an incredible rate. I look over at Avrie and can see that annoyance in her eyes, and I find myself having to contain a giggle. It's very clear that Avrie is bothered by our Escort, yet she continues to say useless things to us as if it is the most interesting thing on the planet.

Only so long can I deal with mindless blabber, and I get up from the cushioned seat that I was seated in and walk towards the door to the train car. I hear the Escort falter at her words as she recognizes that I am leaving during her "important" conversation, but she continues on as if nothing has happened once I shut the door behind me.

I wander into the next train car, which is decorated even more lavishly than the main car that we were brought into when we first got onto this death train. I walk into the center of the car, in which there is a large, rectangular wooden table with polished black chairs all around it. There are plates littered on the table as well as dainty silverware that has been neatly placed next to the plates, forks to the right and spoons and knives to the left tucked over a napkin.

This certainly looks like a place where a lavish meal will be held, something that I don't get the opportunity to have often enough. With both mother and Tate dying… things had been rough, and still are. We can barely afford enough food to feed my other siblings, let alone always having a meal myself and giving my dad some food. If there is any upside to this at all, at least I can have a decent meal everyday until the day I die in the Games. Hopefully Dad is taking care of Decima and the rest of them…

My reminiscing of my family is cut short when I hear a small screech and the crash of plates falling to the floor. I rush over to the train car door at the opposite end of this car, and open it slightly to peer into the next room.

I am greeted with the sight of a bright red headed short girl with all red clothing, presumably meaning she is an Avox, being yelled at by a larger man in a black and white uniform. The man is profusely yelling at the smaller Avox, and I can see the spit flying into the girl's face. The poor girl looks absolutely terrified, and rightfully so, but the man is not backing down.

He is yelling at the girl so loudly that I'm surprised nobody else is coming to her aid to see what the commotion is. He's yelling at her about her work and how the precision is lacking, which shocks me considering the dining room looks simply stunning. Since she is an Avox, she cannot use her words to defend herself and is just taking everything that the rude man is dealing towards her. My maternal side starts to boil over, as this poor girl reminds me of my dead sibling Hart, who died because I couldn't help him. I don't want this girl to get hurt because of something I didn't do. Not another person has to suffer because of me.

"Why are you yelling at this girl?" I scream at the man as I barge through the door that leads into the next train car. "This dining room set up is immaculate and she clearly knows what she's doing, so shut the fuck up, and leave her alone." I'm surprised at my own tenacity, but I'm also proud of the fact that I stood up for this girl and tried to help her, unlike Hart.

"She's a useless piece of shit who can't even clean the dishes properly. She's a waste of space and I'll see to it that she gets a nice whipping back at the Capitol." The man, knowing that I am a tribute and he can't hurt me, backs away as I step in between him and the young Avox. He huffs and curses at me for getting involved, but barges through the train car and slams the door open, walking out of sight.

I turn around to face the young Avox girl, and she wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace, which I consider to be her way of showing me her thanks.

I grab her hand and lead her into the dining room and help her set the rest of the table as I talk to her about how good of a job she has done. I continue to describe to her about how well she did and even slip into some personal stories about my life in District Eight, much to her liking.

When the table is finished being set and my stories are finished being told, I wrap the little girl in one last embrace.

"I hope to see you again," I say as I let go of hugging her. "If you ever need help again, don't hesitate to come and find me. I'm Eira Gray of District Eight." She nods quickly and scurries out of the room, going back to wherever it is that the Avoxes go on this train.

I smile and strut out of the dining room, heading back into the dreadful environment of the main train car where my Escort is no doubt still blabbering. I'm glad I was able to help the Avox. If I'm going to die, at least I can die knowing I will join Hart wherever it is dead people go, and can tell him all about the fact that I helped someone when I couldn't help him.

* * *

**Tatum Albright, 16, District Six**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

A pair of black shoes appears in front of me and I look up to see a man with red hair and a pale, decorated face looking down at me. He moves a tray in front of me, one that holds only a pretty box with tissues spilling out the top. I take a couple and nod a thank you to him, not wanting to speak out of fear that my voice will crack again.

Ever since I stepped foot onto the train I have been unable to appreciate anything that was happening around me. Aston sat down beside me for a moment when we first got on the train after the Reaping, but I could not handle the company and asked him to leave me alone, probably in a less than ideal tone of voice. He seemed alright to go and speak with the mentors and escort, and has been doing that for a while now.

The only thing I have done so far since I have been on here is cry. One of the mentors tried speaking to me for a while, but even just seeing her face reminded me of where I was headed. Into a place that was going to do everything it possibly could to torment and then kill me. I'm sure I will be able to handle this later, when I have to. But right now I have no desire to interact with any of them, especially not Aston.

I still find it difficult to believe that it was my name that was called at the Reaping. The entire thing seems now like such a blur, I could not even recognize myself in the girl that walked up to the stage when I watched a few pieces of the recaps that were on the television. She looked like a zombie, a wide-eyed, teary zombie.

I sniffle into the tissues when I think of the goodbyes that were said to my parents when they came to see me in the Justice Building. Unlike the Reaping I remember that part clearly, everything from the tight hug that they enveloped me in up until the moment when my little sister, Tegan, slipped off her little bracelet and wrapped it twice around my index finger.

I bring the bracelet up to examine it, a thing red string with a broken bell dangling off of it. I remember making fun of Tegan when she brought it home from her first day of school, telling her that the bell wasn't made of gold like she told my mother it was. More tears come to my eyes. That is what Tegan is going to remember me as, and even so she still thought to give me my token.

At this point I am not even sure what I am crying about. I don't even think it is because I am going to miss District Six, in all honesty it was no secret that I hated it there. Of course I will miss my parents and my little sister, but I can't even say they were my world or that I will be lost if I'm separated from them.

The reason I cry is selfishness, and that makes me cry even harder. I cry because I can bet that they will miss me even though I made life exceptionally difficult for them most of the time. In the back of my head I guess I thought I would have more time to be a better daughter and sister later. Everything else was just so much more interesting now. Friends, boys, and just hanging out. Family isn't supposed to be cool right now, but how much I wish it would have been.

I'm leaving my family and I think I'm more scared that they are not missing me than I am about leaving.

Not that I could blame them if they didn't. I was hardly ever home anyway, I never cared about them.

I'm not sad, I'm regretful. I'm only sixteen, I've never appreciated what I had, and now I am going to die without even having gotten the chance to be the person I want to be remembered as. It's not fair and yet it is by some poetic means. To die before I have even lived the life I wanted to and yet to have been sixteen years into my life and still not be a person I am proud to have people remember.

* * *

**Shay Langford, 15, District Seven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I stack another one of the strange fruity pastries on top of the stack that is nearly two feet tall by now, held together by two forks standing upright. I found that as food they taste strange to me, even though Regan seems to have no restraints about eating them, but as building material they are perfect.

I begin positioning another fork on top of the stack, playing around until I can get two of the points to straddle the end of the second fork. Its menial work but at least it keep my mind quiet. I am much better at working with things that are actually here than I am at trying to sort through the mess of emotions that claw at the edges of my mind.

"What are you doing?" The male mentor interrupts me and the fork clatters onto the table, attracting the attention of everyone in the cart. My face feels hot and I shrug, not really knowing any way to explain my pastry tower that won't sound childish.

"It looks kind of cool," Lavender says as she prances over to the table form her window seat. "How did you get it to stand up so straight? Wouldn't they fall?"

My mouth feels too dry to formulate a response. I can still feel the mentor looking at me even though he has returned to his chair. I shrug and lift one of the forks, hoping that she will understand without me having to say it.

"So cool," she says and stands up, scurrying over to the other end of the cart. My heart drops when I realize that she is probably bored out of her mind already. I thought for a second that we might be able to talk or something. I haven't spoken more than a few words to anyone, and Regan was probably not the best choice to speak to anyway. Even with six other people in this cart it feels like we are all segregated.

I can feel the smile break out on my face when I see her hurrying back with another tray of the pastries I had been using to make the tower. "Can you show me? I'm getting sort of bored looking out the window. You seem to be having a bit more fun over here."

"Sure!" I say, probably with a little too much excitement. I push my larger tower to the side and take one of the largest pastries from the plate. Lavender does the same, watching me with curious eyes as I position another one on top of it and secure it with a fork.

"Looks great," I say after a few minutes of silence. Not that I should really get greedy with conversation, truly I am happy just to have the company. I'm not really one to be content with silence for this long and it doesn't seem like anyone else is keen on making up the background noise for me.

"Thanks," she smiles. "This is kind of awkward to ask at this point, but what was your name again?"

"Shay," I blush, realizing that I never took the chance to introduce myself.

"Oh that's right," she nods. "Mine's Lavender if you didn't already know."

"I remember from the Reaping," I say quietly and regret the mention of the event almost immediately when I see her eyes drop back down to the table. "Sorry."

"For what?" She asks softly.

"Nothing," I reply, ducking my head and continuing to concentrate on my tower.

She sighs. "I'm sorry, I think the subject is just a little bit touchy still. I know it shouldn't be."

"The Hunger Games?" I ask even though I am already pretty sure that I know the answer.

"Yes," she sighs again. "I just never thought I would here. It still doesn't seem real, even though everywhere we look there are reminders that it is."

I nod my head. "I understand."

"I think it would be better if we were all crying or screaming or anything else right now. Just sitting here and pretending that all of this is normal is killing me," she admits. "I think it would feel so much better to cry."

I nod even though I don't really understand. I can't imagine feeling the desire to cry or show those deep personal emotions in front of people I don't know. It's always been the opposite for me.

"Wow, sorry I got all deep and personal there," she laughs nervously. "Emotions are riding high right now I guess."

"Makes sense," I say, fighting the urge to add that it's probably normal to feel all sorts of weird emotions when you've just been chosen to fight for your life. It probably wouldn't help to remind her of that.

* * *

**Avrie L'reaux, 17, District Eight**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

"Surely you don't expect to take on the careers? I mean c'mon dear, there's ten of them and one of you?"

I respond with nothing more than a smirk. Of course in a fight I wouldn't be able to take on ten of the idiots, but I would never let myself get in that situation in the first place.

We had briefly watched recaps of the reapings earlier on, but no one stuck out to me more than expected. Typical idiot careers, and outer tributes either trying to act tough, or completely losing it in the case of the District Ten girl. Though the little girls from Nine and Eleven both put up respectable fights, I'll have to keep my eyes on the pair.

"Eira, Armada, I hope neither of you are as stupidly reckless as we have learned Mrs. Avrie to be," I snort at the escorts comment. She does realize I'm her only hope, right?

Armada is thirteen, and Eira is nothing special, barely saying a word since we've boarded this boring train, and she looks like I could snap her in half with my bare hands.

"This train is so boring," I sigh when it's clear neither Eira nor Armada were going to respond.

"I'm sorry it's not up to your standards dear, next time I'll arrange a live band or something of the likes!"

"Your sass is both unwanted, and unneeded. I fear you're pushing Eira and Armada further into their shell, and aren't you supposed to be doing the opposite?"

"I can handle my job thank you," the woman huffs, turning to face both Eira and Armada who look visibly uncomfortable at the escorts presence. I don't let her say a word.

"Can you really though? Armada and Eira both already hate you, and I can't say I'm much a fan of you either."

"That's not true is it kids?"

"You're the reason I'm here," Eira responds, rather bluntly. The escort looks shocked to say the least, quickly glancing between the three of us, each glaring back at her.

"I see," she finally says, wiping her face on a napkin before standing up and leaving the room.

"Finally," Eira sighs, a slight smile on her face as she nods at me.

"That women is a horrid person," I respond, turning to Armada who sits blank-faced.

"Yeah," he simply agrees.

"How come I've never seen either of you around?"

"You never come to class." I look over at Eira, who has a smirk on her face, and a raised eyebrow.

"I do so, when it's important. Did we go to the same school?"

"Once a month eh," she jokes. "Yes we did, we've had a few classes over time, but I didn't even know your name until the reaping."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember you."

"Like I said, you'd actually have to go to class to remember me."

It's astounding how the presence of one women has completely altered Eira's personality, that stupid escort was ruining the whole ride watching over us 24/7.

"How about you Armada?"

"I've never seen either of you in my life, so we must have lived in different parts of the District."

"I lived in the poor part."

"Really? Me too," Armada says, and him and Eira break out into a conversation about how close they could have lived together.

I stay silent, having nothing to add to the conversation. I lived in the orphanage for many years, and then when Alina adopted me I moved in with her, neither home being anywhere near the poor part of town, though the orphanage sure felt like it.

"How weird is it that we could have been neighbours and never even known it?" I hear Eira say, though Armada just nods in response, looking more than done with the conversation.

"You guys think you can win?" I can't help but ask, curious to see if the two poor kids have any fight in them.

Armada looks suddenly pale, and Eira adverts her gaze to the floor. Just as I thought, neither of them has any fight, and just when I thought they might be good ally potential.

"I'm going to win, I have people to get back to, Leilani needs me," Armada suddenly whispers, his eyes transforming to pure fire.

"Leilani?"

"My sister, she's all I have."

I can relate to that. When Alina took me from the orphanage, she also took Mattis, a blonde haired baby boy who has snuck his way into my heart.

Alina will take care of him, I know that, but she's aging, and fast. She's almost reached the average life-expectancy of our District, and though she's a fighter, she won't be able to hold on until Mattis is old enough to raise himself.

I can't let him go back into that orphanage. I won't.

"How do you guys feels about District Eight sticking together and showing everyone just how badass we can really be?"

Eira and Armada both look shocked, just as I am. What am I doing? Armada has fight, but he's just a little boy, how helpful can he really be? And Eira? She's shown that she's not ready for these Games. They'll both probably just bring me down, but what if it was Mattis? I'd want someone to help him, someone to at least give him a shot.

"What's in it for you?" Eira questions, her tone revealing that her guard is suddenly up.

"Look, if there's one thing the escort has said right, it's that there's no way I can take the careers on alone, but with the three of us working together, maybe we can figure something out."

"You want to take on the careers?"

"Not directly, but they'll have to go down at some point."

"I'm in," Armada suddenly says, and I nod, turning to face Eira.

"If you get me killed I will use my dying breath to end your life," Eira smirks, and I grin in return.

It may not be the best, buts it's a start. Once I have my pack, I can use them to take out those idiots, and take what I'm here for; the crown.

No ones stopping me from getting what I want, and that's to get back to Mattis, and win this damn thing.

* * *

**Savvy McCreevy, 15, District Three**

**Acereader55**

* * *

"Everything okay, Savvy?"

The sudden conversation startles me, and I whip my head to the right to see the older girl from my District, Maelle, walking over to come and talk to me.

"Could be worse," I reply. "At least these conditions we are thrust into right now aren't terrible." I motioned to a wooden chair that was next to the soft, cushioned one that I was seated in currently. Maelle took the hint and elegantly slid into the chair, re-positioning herself several times before finding a comfortable sitting position. "How are you fairing?"

"Already missing my family and friends and all that, but otherwise I'm doing better than I thought I would be." Maelle's hand glides over to a table that is next to her chair, and quickly grabs a pale pastry with some sort of cream stuffed inside of it that is slowly coming out. She plops it into her mouth and hums in delight.

"At least the food here is fantastic." She smiles at me and I return the smile. Nothing wrong with a bit of politeness is there?

As Maelle turns her head to look for another pastry to dive into, I look around the current train car that we are in. It's rather extravagant, with multiple colors splashed along the walls and floor. Two glass chandeliers are hanging from the ceiling and are barely moving, even though the train is going at what seems to be faster than the speed of light.

The walls are adorned with colorful paintings and wall lights that are currently off. There are mirrors hanging as well, presumably where the Escort most frequently visits. I cast a glance over to the other corner of the train car where my other two district partners are currently talking and sharing a laugh. It's such a shame that for me to return home, they will have to die, as well as Maelle.

The two boys seem lovely, but from the clothes they are wearing and from how they are acting, they're definitely not from the Southern part of the District like I am. I'm fairly certain Maelle is also not as poor as I am, which does surprise me seeing as usually the wealthier families rarely loose even one child to the Games, let alone three.

I doubt that any of the people in this train car will want to ally with someone like me. The wealthier kids, like in the District itself, usually stick together because they have similar morals and values and can relate to each other better than with someone of a lower social status. I'm already preparing myself to have to search for an ally in Training rather than have someone approach me for an alliance on the train.

"So, Savvy…" Maelle has apparently finished her pastry and turns to face me, effectively popping the thought bubble that was forming around my head. "How would you like to ally with me?" Everything seemed to stand still for just a moment. Maelle had asked _me_to be in an alliance with _her_? Oz, Tilly, and the rest of them would certainly get a kick out of having a rich girl ask me to align with her.

"I…uh…"

"It's okay if you don't want to. I know we seem like an unlikely pair seeing as we are very different, but I thought that heading into training with someone already on your side might make this whole ordeal a little easier on us."

Maelle started to get up from her wooden chair and appeared to be leaving, but thankfully I managed to find my words before she could walk away from me, effectively ending my chance at an alliance that was practically handed to me on a silver platter.

"I would love to be in an alliance with you Maelle." I got up from my chair and offered my hand to her, which she immediately took and gave me a firm handshake. "I'm glad we can go into this together."

Maelle nodded her head in agreement before looking over her shoulder at Zeno and Toby, who had seemingly stopped talking and were now seated a few feet away from each other. She pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the other two.

"What about them? Should we form a District Three alliance?" I thought about it for a moment, considering my options before shaking my head side to side.

"I would love nothing more than to help the kid, but in an environment like the Hunger Games, especially when there are more careers than usual, he'll only weigh us down. And Zeno…" I looked over at the other boy who stared back at me with an uneasy smile. "I have a bad feeling about him."

Maelle turned to face me once again before nodding in agreement.

"Sounds good to me. Maybe we should watch the Reapings Recap so we can look out for any other potential allies. No offence, but I definitely think three or more people could benefit us more than just the two of us." Maelle swiftly made her way over to the purple couch that was placed in front of a rather large black screen. When our Escort noticed us moving towards the screen, she pranced over and grabbed a device, clicking a button on it bringing the black screen to life with flashing colors now taking over the screen.

"The Recaps already aired darlings. But, lucky for you, I recorded them just in case you may have wanted to view them later to spot out potential allies." Our Escort clapped her hands excitedly, obviously enthralled at the idea of us making new allies. I looked over at Maelle one last time before the Recaps began and noticed her paying careful attention to the screen, obviously serious about finding useful allies. I'm glad she offered to be my ally, it'll make everything easier in the long run.

After all, this experience won't be easy. Anything to lighten the load of what is to come is a gift like no other.

* * *

**Aston Moroque, 15, District Six**

**Acereader55 (Written by District11-Olive)**

* * *

"Tatum why don't you come on over here and talk with us?" Pricilla asks for the likely hundredth time since we stepped onto the train. In the far corner of the train cart, Tatum sneaks a glance up at us before returning her gaze to the window. I would have been surprised if Pricilla's request had resulted in any other response.

"She'll come around eventually I'm sure," she smiles and I cringe. Talking to Pricilla is definitely not one of the top things on my list right now, but I don't really feel like separating myself from her and my mentors would do me any good. I would have rather talked to Tatum, maybe she would have been able to understand more of what I mean than Pricilla, but I definitely don't feel like trying that again.

As soon as we got on the train I sat down next to her in her little window seat, probably a little bit too expectantly I gather. She put a stop to my attempts to talk to her pretty quickly. I guess not everyone is handling this whole situation as well as I seem to be.

"She's probably just a little overwhelmed," I reply with a smile. I'm not sure if it is wrong of me to say that I felt a lot better after I saw her crying. It's not that I find joy in her sadness, but I think it just helps me out to know that even though I am a year younger than Tatum I am able to handle myself just a little bit better. That epiphany gave me a little bit more strength to hold back the tears, at least until I can be alone for a while.

"Poor girl," Pricilla shakes her head. "At least she was able to almost hold it together at the ceremony. What a pity it would have been to see all of her chances gone so quickly. A bad reaction makes it so difficult to get back in the viewers' good graces."

I say nothing and just nod along. I can understand what Pricilla means when she says how important it is for us to make good impressions and stand out to the audience, but I also find it hard to get over the fact that we have so much expected of us. We are teenagers, and it's not something normal that we would have to deal with to be reaped into the Hunger Games.

"If she doesn't start acting her age, however, she's going to find her time with us a lot more difficult," Pricilla continues. "She doesn't have too many things going for her, she will have to work at it a little more."

"I can hear you." I turn and see Tatum looking over at Pricilla and I. Her grey eyes are narrowed into thin slits and her cheeks still wet with fresh tears.

"I'm glad you did, darling," Pricilla replies. "You should know what is expected of you."

"Expected of me?" She huffs. "I couldn't care less what you expect of me, Pricilla. You have no idea what this is like, how dare you even try to tell me how I should be reacting?"

"You are a young woman," Pricilla snaps, her smile fading as quickly as Tatum's timid demeanour. "Aston here already knows exactly how he is to behave if he wants to be a Victor. You, on the other hand, still seem not to know. And you're running out of time, darling."

"I don't need your help to win," she spits back, her shy and tearful face turning to ice before my eyes.

"That's what you think," Pricilla laughs. "But when we get to the Capitol, darling, that is a world I know better than either of you. Tomorrow you will be on your knees begging for my advice, but I'm not sure I'll find the heart to waste it on you."

Pricilla gets up from the table and steps into the washroom, her face beaming red despite her calm tone. Tatum turns her glare at me, her eyes accusing and sharp. I look down and after a minute of so I can feel her eyes shift from me. When I look back up she is once again staring out the window.

I consider for a brief second going over and talking to her but dismiss the thought immediately. She rejected my efforts earlier without having anything against me that I know of, and after that dispute with Pricilla I just know that my presence wouldn't be welcome. I had considered for the first few hours on that train that maybe after Tatum calmed down a little bit that her and I could be allies. I think just sitting beside Pricilla has turned the odds of that happening to nearly zero percent.

"We're here," one of the mentors says softly.

Pricilla steps out of the washroom with her smile replaced firmly where it belongs. "Brilliant! Follow me children, I will show you to your new home, I just know you are going to love it."

When the train door opens I can see that it is night time, the only light coming from the dim lanterns that sit on either side of an industrial looking door. I step off onto the hard concrete and the chill of the air cuts through me almost instantly. A second later I remember that I left my sweatshirt in the Justice Building after the Reaping.

"This is just the train station," Pricilla coos. "Upstairs is far nicer than anything you will have ever seen before. Just you wait!"

* * *

**Song: Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys.**

* * *

**A/N: Hey all, it's Olive again. This chapter begins our journey into the Capitol with the train rides. The Capitol will feature eight chapters, with each tribute getting two POVs. **

**This chapter was a little bit (a lot) late, but we hope that with school ending for the break for all of us that we will be able to get the next few up on time at least. Fingers crossed!**

* * *

**We hope that all of you that are reading will take the time to let us know how we are doing with character showcasing and general writing style, as well as answer the questions below. **

_**Who are your favourites from this chapter?**_

_**Do you have any early predictions for alliances?**_

* * *

**That is basically it for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed and we will see you next week for the Tribute Parade! **


	6. Change

**No Curtain Call by Maroon 5**

* * *

_I'm fighting through this pain  
And things I cannot change  
Running right into the flame  
Rather than running away_

* * *

**Lavender Vargas, 14, District Seven**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

"If you expect me to wear that, you're out of your mind."

My stylist looks on the brink of tears as I once again refuse to try on my stupid parade outfit.

Truthfully, I had barely looked at it, but I don't exactly fancy the idea of being paraded around in anything for the Capitol to see.

"Would you just try it on? Maybe you'll like it?" she pleads again, and I can't help but smirk.

"I can tell you one thing for sure, and that's that I will not be wearing that, ever."

This whole idea is idiotic, what is the point in parading us around like freaks? How could someone seriously enjoy watching 30 kids shaking in their boots about their upcoming death? It's sick, the whole thing, The Hunger Games is fucked up, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make it harder on these buffoons.

"What would you like to wear then?"

"What I'm wearing now," I smile, motioning down at my simple green shirt and grey sweatpants.

"The President would have my head."

"I really don't care, but the only way I'm wearing that is if you tie me down and force me."

The minute I say it I regret it, Myla's face instantly transforms from hopelessness to pure evil.

It's only a few minutes later that I'm strapped down onto some sort of table, my clothes being ripped from my body and tossed to the side like trash.

At first I try and fight it, clawing at anyone who nears my tied down hands, but then the thought of my mother calms me down.

If only the psycho could see me now, her precious daughter strapped down on a table naked, in the Capitol of all places, several strangers eyes lingering on places they should have never seen.

She'd have a fit, let alone the germs I could be collecting right now. I wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't given herself a heart attack by now, having no control over me anymore.

"There, doesn't that feel better?"

I look down and am shocked to see my naked body has been replaced with my outfit; a simple white sun-dress, paired with the real life flower head band that had been fastened in my newly curled haired.

I'd never admit it, but I look pretty cute in this new getup.

"It's hideous," I spit, and Myla looks slightly sad, but the look quickly vanishes.

"If I let you up, are you going to behave?" I nod, knowing that they could have a new outfit, that could very well be worse, here in a matter of minutes.

A man unlocks both the straps that were holding my hands, before disappearing through the door with the rest of his crew, leaving the room empty other than myself and Myla.

"We have a bit until you're expected down, is there anything you'd like to talk about?"  
I snort, now suddenly she's my friend?

"How about your District partners? Are they nice?"

"Oh, you mean the whore, the psycho, and the nerd? Yeah they're a load of fun!"

Myla just shakes her head, probably fed up with dealing with me, but I don't really care. She's nothing to me, nothing more than a stupid pawn, a pawn that will cheer for my death when the time comes, I'm sure.

Getting out of this is not something I plan on doing. Realistically how could I? A third of the tributes going into that arena are trained killers, and I'm just a fourteen year old girl that has barely seen the light of day.

For years my mother thought she was protecting me by keeping me locked away, but I bet she regrets that now. Had I been allowed out of the house more often, I probably would have picked up a few skills that could be useful in this situation, like people skills, which is something I know I'm lacking in.

But no, she was too scared; too scared I'd get hurt, too scared I'd get sick, too scared I'd leave and never come back. So she kept me inside, away from the world, and away from the people.

I'll never get over her face when I told her I'd been sneaking out to meet some friends at night for years in our goodbye. She had nearly killed me right then and there, but she broke down again before she could say a word.

A part of me feels bad, I know she was only doing what she thought was best for me, but a part of me will always hate her, for ruining my life. She took away more than my freedom, she took away my childhood, any memories I could have made, she took away my right to live happily, and now the Capitol's taking away my right to live at all.

I don't know who I hate more, my mother, or the Capitol. Both ruined my life, and both will one day pay the price. My mother sooner than later. I'm sure she'll feel the regret as she watches the life drain from my eyes, knowing that the last words I'd ever said to her was I hate you, and I might even experience a little regret, but what's done is done, and right now I couldn't care less about what I said.

The Capitol, well they'll pay the price someday, the Games can't go on forever, one day the Capitol will fall, and justice will be served. I'm just pissed I won't be around to see it happen.

"It's time Lavender, are you ready?"

"Ready? How could I ever be ready for this stupid thing?"

"I don't know Lavender, let's just go," she grumbles, the defeat clear in her eyes.

I smirk as I follow her out of the room, I may not win the Games, or take down the Capitol, but I'll sure as hell be the biggest pain in the ass to everyone in this evil place.

I won't win the Games, but the Capitol won't defeat me.

* * *

**Phoebe Ryder, 16, District Seven **

**Acereader55**

* * *

"Oh I just love my outfit Felicia!" I squeal in delight as my stylist claps her pasty hands together. I twirl around in front of the mirror and giggle politely, which in turn makes Felicia squeal with pleasure at the sight of having made me, her very first tribute, happy with what they're wearing.

It's a simple white, short sundress with holes and carvings cut out throughout the dress in shapes of leaves and flowers. It's much better than the outfits last year's tributes were forced to wear. I would die if I were forced to look like a tree in front of all of Panem.

"Felicia, is there any way this neckline can be altered to be a little shorter?" I ask. "I think that my best assets should be a little more… in view." I smirk at Felicia in a seductive way, one that would make any boy fall to his knees and crawl after me in a fit of lust and desire for something that they most certainly can have. After all, there's nothing more that boys love then a good helping of a mature woman.

Felicia walks over to a silver tray that is placed on top of a marble counter, and she grabs an instrument that looks like a scalpel, something usually used for surgery. She sashays back over to where I am as her high heels click across the tiled floor. She spins me around and begins to use the instrument she grabbed to make a deep cut into the fabric, careful not to cut any of the intricate designs that are laced into my sundress. Her hand carefully guides the instrument around my breasts and cuts the white laced fabric away, and I watch as it floats to the ground as she stands back and admires her work.

"Take a look in the mirror sweetie," she requests and I happily oblige, turning around and walking to the mirror in the corner of the room. Now that she's cut off the majority of the laced fabric that lied around my breasts, I feel much more liberated and I feel that I can make a much bigger impression now.

"It's even better than before Felicia," I smile and give her a quick hug, thanking her for making me look more desirable than ever before. "I think that with your outfit on me, we could have a winning combination." Felicia gives a wide smile showing off her whitened teeth and claps her hands together with delight.

The steel door suddenly swings open and in walks another man that I have never seen before. As I look past the other man, I see Shay standing past the doorway. He looks extremely uncomfortable in his stark white outfit, and I can see him fidgeting with his belt that holds his pants up.

"It's time to bring them to the underground chamber, Felicia." The man gestures towards the door and Felicia grabs my arm, guiding me through the doorway even though I'm perfectly capable of walking three feet in front of me myself. "We have to be in there in a few minutes, and it would be an absolute travesty if we were the last ones to be downstairs." The man is obviously worried about appearances, much like myself. Seems like Shay got a good stylist as well.

As our Stylists chatter idly in front of us about the latest Capitol fashion, I hang back and walk side by side with Shay, who is putting on a brave face and not saying one word.

"Long day, huh?" I ask him. Shay looks at me with a confused look on his face, before nodding his head slightly and quickening his pace. Obviously not one for talking then. No matter, a little shimmy here and a shake of the hips there will get his tongue to dance for me. "Hopefully these Chariot Rides will be as amazing as everyone hypes them up to be." Once again, Shay nods slightly, not speaking a single word which irritates me to no end. You have a tongue for a reason, you should at least use it once in a while, especially when a girl like me comes a talking.

Our stylists stop at the glass elevator which immediately opens up for us, and the four of us load into the elevator, waiting for the doors to close and take us down to the underground chamber where out Chariots and the other tributes wait. The glass doors eventually close, and as I look up, a number is flashing on a tiny screen, informing us of what floor we have just passed.

When we reach the bottom floor, the screen reads 'UC' and the elevator dings as the two doors slide open and we walk out into the chamber, which isn't really a chamber at all. Our stylists usher us over to where a rather large Chariot is placed, and as we walk over to it I can see Regan and Lavender already situated together, their stylists making last minute adjustments to their outfits, which are similar to mine.

"Oh look, the nerd and the whore have arrived," Lavender scoffs and I just smile brightly.

"You're just jealous of my tits little girl," I reply, which shuts her up rather quickly. She's younger and smaller than me and definitely not as attractive as I am. I'm far superior to anything she'll ever grow into, and she should respect me. Shay backs away from me and begins to silently slide over towards the entrance to our Chariot, and Lavender quickly follows behind him.

"Idiotic children eh?" I say to Regan. He turns to look at me and sends me a look that tells me to shut up. If looks could kill, I'd definitely be dead by now. "What's the matter big boy? Can't trash talk some kids as well as a doll like me can?"

I'm flabbergasted when Regan slams his hand into my throat and pins me to the side of the Chariot, making it shake slightly. The stylists whip their heads around to view what's happening along with some of the tributes that were already down here, eager to get a glimpse of what was happening.

"You better shut your damn mouth girl or I'll rip your tongue out the second we get in that arena." His breath slams into my face and I squirm as much as I can to get free from his iron grasp. "No whore is going to dictate how or what I do." He releases me from his grip just as the stylists come to grab him away from me, and he pushes them away as he walks towards the entrance to the Chariot. As I sit on the ground gasping for air, I can't help but think about his threat.

If I can't convince my own male district partners to like me, how in the hell am I to convince anyone else?

* * *

**Glint Grayson, 18, District One**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"You look lovely," my stylist takes a step back from me with a teary-eyed smile. Her gaze moves up and down me and she motions for me to turn. I suppress a groan but decide that it's better to make the small woman happy than to risk her not working as hard on my next few outfits. My stylist is certainly not someone that I would like to have upset with me.

I turn around slowly until my back is facing her, looking up to see the trio of tributes from District Two standing hardly two feet in front of me. I can't help but groan this time as the brown haired girl I recognize as Eden Ares eyes my outfit. It feels like forever and a day before she speaks.

"You look stupid."

I bite my lip, unsure how to respond, but thankfully Raleigh is only standing a few feet away, her stylist already having deemed her ready for the Capitol's eye. She moves to stand beside me and holds out one hand with a toothy grin on her face. "I'm Raleigh, nice to finally meet you all."

Eden looks Raleigh up and down just as she had me. "Pleasure. I'm Eden, this is Arnette and Braden."

"I can speak for myself," the redhead I recognize as Arnette says, slapping Eden on the arm softly. "I'm Arnette."

The boy standing a little bit behind them, Braden, says nothing but I nod at him to acknowledge him anyway. He nods back, the golden crown that sits on his head shifting just a little bit closer to his forehead. This year, unsurprisingly, District Two is dressed up like gladiators with gold-plated armour covering only the necessary parts of them and golden laurel crowns sitting atop their heads.

I can hear Zaria and Jasper coming up behind us. They smile and introduce themselves, Zaria's stylist still dutifully trailing behind her to fix the colourful array of feathers that has been pinned to the back of her collar. District One's outfits are a little bit different than the usual silver and fuchsia that we are traditionally dressed in. Raleigh and Zaria are dressed in nothing more than two bands of jade green fabric with a bouquet of feathers attached to their backs and a detailed mask painted across their eyes. Jasper and I are dressed similarly, minus the top half of the costume and with our feathers attached as an elaborate necklace of sorts. I heard a few of the members of my prep team saying how magnificent we looked dressed as peacocks, whatever those are.

As I listen to the idle chitchat that seems to mostly encompass the girls of the group, I begin to wonder if the initial Career meeting is this awkward every year or if it's just magnified this year because of the sheer size of our group. Somewhere in this time the three tributes from District Four, Atlas, Ebba, and Dierdre, arrive, their bodies even more exposed in swimsuits that looked like slimy lettuce and barely covered the girls' upper regions.

"What do you think?" I say absentmindedly to Braden who stands silently listening to the girls' chatter. He turns to me immediately, an almost surprised look on his face.

"About?"

I think for a second before answering. Truthfully I was just looking to start a conversation with anyone that would. Standing here and listening is sort of driving me insane if I am being honest. I thought that as soon as we all got together the planning would begin, maybe I'd even find out what I was supposed to do in a few minutes when our chariot rode out into the City Circle. "This thing so far, is it anything like you thought it would be?"

"There's a lot more waiting around than any of the trainers warned me about," he admits, cracking a smile for the first time since I've seen him in person. "I assumed that I would have to get used to being rushed around everywhere, but all we've done so far is sit around."

"I know what you mean," I say and I mean it. "I thought this would all be a lot more exciting. It looks that way on television."

Braden nods and chuckles a bit to himself. "I guess it is true what they say, everything seems more interesting on television. Hopefully by tomorrow the pace will pick up a little bit more, you know when training begins."

"Me too, I don't know if I can take too many more days like today," I laugh. It's nearly nine o'clock in the evening and all that I have managed to accomplish today is sleep in until noon and lay on a bed for another four hours as my prep team primped and picked at every inch of my body. And I mean _every _inch.

Strangely enough, especially considering how little activity I was able to do minus the fifteen minute workout I started before being called to lunch, I am tired enough that I would be able to fall asleep right now given the option. I don't expect that after this anybody will have any objections to my making it an early night. After all I can't expect that I will be sleeping in tomorrow.

Braden looks like he is about to respond when Eden appears at his side, grabbing his arm and motioning over to their chariot. "It's time to go, they're calling the five minute warning now."

"Alright," he says and allows her to drag him over to the chariot behind ours, grabbing Arnette on the way over. District Four sees them leaving and nod amongst themselves, presumably agreeing that it is time for them to leave as well. I wave as each of them pass me to get to their chariots. They're all too concentrated on the journey to return the gesture I guess.

* * *

**Toby Alvarez, 13, District Three**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

My heart races as I stand among my District partners, all relatively cramped into this less then roomy chariot.

Savvy is too my right, Maelle and Zeno standing behind us. All of us are dressed fairly similar in our sparkling grey suits and dresses. Rather boring if you ask me, but my attire is the last thing I'm worried about right now.

Savvy is visibly shaking beside me, and either Zeno or Maelle seem to be having a breathing problem, panting behind me in anticipation of what is to come.

Their nerves makes me uneasy, at first I thought it wouldn't be too bad. I'd stand on this stupid thing for a little while, pretending to be anywhere else, and then it'd be over.

But none of my District partners seem to be the nervous type, all three of them being relatively confident, but it's sure getting to them now.

It makes me think that maybe I was wrong, maybe this will be really, really bad.

On the train, I didn't develop any connections to any of them, which is unsurprising. Friends have never been my thing, a skill I wish I had now more than ever.

I tried, but they're all so confident, especially Zeno. They overwhelmed me, and all they did was try and talk to me.

I ruined any chance of an alliance, so there's no point in talking to them at all now. They'll all find strong allies, perhaps each other, but I'll be left out, as always.

The anticipation is becoming too much, so I scan the room, looking for anything to keep my mind of this parade.

The careers are in one corner, standing around chatting amongst themselves as if this was some sort of party, and not a fight to the death.

A few other Districts are starting to intertwine, but the majority of the other tributes either  
stand by themselves, or with their District.

District Eight looks particular close, sitting in their chariot talking with the occasional laugh, though it seems the red-head girl is doing most of that.

Moving down the line, I almost giggle at the District Nine chariot; it being shrunk to nearly half the size of a normal one. It makes sense though, District Nine having only one tribute, who currently is standing alone nearby the chariot, eyes darting around the room like she is lost, a look of desperation on her face.

I look away, the sight only making me feel worse. Poor girl is all alone in this, though I practically am too.

By now the silence has become too much for my District partners, the chatting beginning to resume like it had the whole train ride, though none of them make an attempt to include me.  
I continue down the line, watching as the boy from Ten seems to be yelling at his District partner, who starts to cry as the boy continues his rage over who knows what.

Surprisingly, a figure comes up behind the Ten girl, pulling her quickly away, yelling profanities at the boy who retaliates with more words even I've never heard of, though I do catch the word crybaby.

The two girls don't get very far away before they stop, and I finally recognize the other one to be the previously desperate looking girl from Nine.

Oh great, look at even her making friends.

I turn again and notice the District Eleven chariot containing it's one and only tribute, the little twelve year old girl.

Surprisingly she looks rather calm, perched on the side of the chariot, eyes scanning the room much like mine.

For a moment we catch each other's eye, but I quickly look away, though I regret it as soon I do.

I'm hopeless, I can't even keep the eye of a freaking twelve year old!

"You ok Toby?" I turn to see a concerned looking Maelle, Zeno and Savvy also starring at me.

"Fine," I whisper back, attempting a fake smile that I fear doesn't go over well.

Maelle doesn't say anything else, though she does raise her eyebrow at me and I just nod my head, turning back around and letting them return to their conversation.

Out of no where the chariot jolts, and the chatter instantly stops, though someone let's out a quick gasp. It could have been me.

I look to see the giant doors ahead opening, and I nearly stumble back as the noise hits me like a brick wall.

It's deafening, to say the least, all hope for chatter whipped away.

The chariots continue their trek towards the doors, and I look around to see that everyone had already boarded their chariots. When did that happen? It was only a second ago that most of them were standing around chatting.

I don't have time to question it as our chariot finally pulls trough the doors, and I get my first glimpse.

There are people literally everywhere. Everywhere I look, there are thousands of them, millions even, all screaming, all cheering, for what though?

Most of us we'll be dead in a matter of days, is that really that exciting?

I try to shake my head to clear my mind, but end up tripping, falling back into a pair of shaking hands.

Maelle sets me back on my feet, and when I turn to see her she offers a small smile, but I'm too afraid to acknowledge it.

Afraid. I'm afraid.

Afraid of what though? The Capitol? Duh, I always have been. The people? It'll be over soon, and I can retire to my room alone for the night.

Dying? I've known I was going to die since the moment I was reaped, I'd like to think I've come to terms with that.

So what is it? What has changed?

You're alone, you always will be.

You're going to die alone.

The mere thought of it sends a shiver down my spine, all thoughts of the thousands of screaming people around me forgotten as I escape to my own mind.

I can do a lot of things, but making friends has never been my strong point. I like people, I really do, but it's getting them to like me that I struggle with.

They always find something wrong with me; I'm too quiet, too boring, too mature.  
But I can be fun, I can be a good friend, if someone would just give me the chance. If someone would just look past my quiet exterior, and see the real Toby. The Toby that's caring, and optimistic, and loyal.

Perhaps these Games can be the push I need, the push that will force me to make a friend, or else I will die alone.

Perhaps some good will come out of these Games.

My District partners might not think so, but I can useful, I can survive long enough to help.

I'll prove them wrong.

I'll find someone who likes me, and we'll do it.

We'll play the Game, and when I lose, well at least I won't be alone.

* * *

**Corlis Kembrey, 17, District Ten**

**Acereader55**

* * *

As the Chariots begin to roll through the gigantic double wooden doors, I feel even more sick than I ever have felt before. I feel like I'm going to throw up all over, and my insides feel like they're about to explode along with my eardrums. The sheer noise that I'm hearing when I'm not even out of the doors makes me even more nervous.

I've never been one for large crowds or for being in the spotlight for too long, that was always other people's forte while I was simply in the background. A frame for the pretty picture, if you will. I've tried my best to be the picture, but it just doesn't work for me. I've done everything I could possibly think of: doing their work, helping out around the house, complimenting them, everything I could think of I would do to make them like me and make me the center of attention, but it just never worked out.

As time went on, I learned to accept this fate that I was deemed. I was always meant to be the frame, and never was meant to be the picture. Always the bridesmaid, but never the actual bride. It's saddening in a way, but I've learned to cope with it and I've learned to accept with why I was put in this world.

I'm jolted out of my thoughts when Hunter taps my bare shoulder and motions to his wide grin that he has painted on his face. Hunter is a sweet gentleman, something that I've always admired in a man. Too bad his politeness will probably end up getting him hurt or even killed in the Games.

I plaster a smile onto my face and hold his hand that he has outstretched to me, taking comfort into being able to grip onto something in this scary and unfortunate time. Soon, our Chariot rolls into the Center Circle and we are out and visible for the whole world to see.

The noise is like nothing I've ever heard before. It is absolutely deafening, and I can tell why. There must be thousands of the Capitol citizens all packed into this gigantic City Circle, all huddled together in order to get just a glimpse of the new batch of tributes this year. It's so overwhelming to see all of these people looking at me, and all of these people are judging every little part of me, which is very scary to me. I'm not used to being the pretty picture in the frame.

I begin to swoon to the side towards Hunter, and thank Panem for that because if I had swooned to the other side, I'd have fallen off of the Chariot. Hunter takes my head in the crook of his neck and adjusts his shoulder accordingly so that I can rest my head there. Admittedly, it made for a nice little scene with him and it makes me happy that maybe we garnered more sponsors from that little stunt. I need something good to come out of all this attention and nerves, and sponsors sponsoring me is definitely something good.

As the Chariot continues to roll through the City Circle, I can begin to see the balcony that the President is on. Oh, how much I hate that piece of shit. He's part of the reason that I'm here, stuck in this predicament with no other way out of it other than to run away and kill people in an arena.

We finally roll up around a large and regal fountain, water spouting out of what looks to be like an angel's mouth. There are white roses littered in the pond that the fountain spits water into, and there are so many different colored roses littered on the floor around all of the Chariots. When the Chariots come to a halt, I take a look around and notice the Careers in all their glory and fame.

The District One Chariot looks as regal and beautiful as ever. Painted a beautiful gold and silver color, the Chariot is just as breathtaking as the tributes that stand inside of it. The girls, one blonde and the other a black haired girl, are dressed in what seems like small bikinis with a flower headband, feathers sticking out of their backs and an intricate pattern that is painted on their faces. The boys are dressed rather similarly, though neither of them have a shirt on, their bare chests full of muscles fully exposed to all of Panem.

District Two is equally as intimidating as District One is. The boy has no shirt on and no paints either, only a small piece of armor covering the necessary parts. He is painted in gold paint and is shining under the lights of the City Circle. The girls are dressed in a similar fashion, though their tops are covered by armor as well. All three of them are painted in gold paint and have golden laurel crowns on their heads.

I turn my head to inspect District Four, which probably will only make myself feel even more insecure than I already do after looking at the other Careers, when I'm interrupted by the President's booming voice.

"Tributes," he begins. "We salute you and your sacrifice. On this fourth Quarter Quell, 100 years since the rebellion, we declare this year's Hunger Games officially open!" The crowd roars and cheers in response, the noise making my ears feel like they're being destroyed from the inside out.

"Good luck tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

As he finishes his speech, the crowd chants and claps some more, the noise still making my ears throb uncomfortably. As we roll back into the underground chambers, I finally go back into my normal self and the shell that has always encompassed me. Always the ever invisible picture frame, never the illuminated picture; just the way I prefer it to be.

* * *

**Armada Pruitt, 13, District Eight**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

My heart is pounding as I accept the hand that is offered to me. My eyes are still adjusting to the much more dim lighting inside in comparison to those in front of the audience. I step blindly to the side that the hand leads me to and end up missing the steps completely. I hit the ground hard and my knees shake with the impact. Thankfully I am able to keep upright.

"You three were just wonderful!" A voice coos. I feel someone land beside me and then seconds later I just narrowly avoid being used as a cushion as Eira blindly feels her way off of the chariot and onto the ground. Everyone that is able to heard the sound of her dress ripping as her knee catches it flinches, myself included.

"It-it's probably fine," she mutters, pinching the two pieces of fabric together with her fingers and ducking her head to try and hide the deep red blush that breaks out across her cheeks.

Our escort sighs and ushers Eira over to the elevator in front of the rest of us. "At least this waited until the parade was over, honey."

I glance up at Avrie, who shakes her head as they rush ahead of her. When she notices me she cracks a half-smile and places a hand on my back to push me after them. I roll my eyes but I'm grateful for the playfulness that Avrie beams. It makes this whole thing just a little less weird as long as we can act like everything is normal.

Ever since it was decided that the three of us would be in an alliance in the arena, I have felt a lot better about this whole thing. Well, I'm still scared out of my mind, but at least I know I won't be walking around by myself in there. My chances haven't really improved even in being with two older tributes now, but I can't really complain. I'm surprised that I was their first choice for an ally in the first place after all.

Don't get me wrong, Avrie and Eira are nice people. Some of the nicest people I have ever met, even, but I don't see a fighter in either one of them. Watching the Career tributes _volunteer _to go into the arena I guess has jaded my opinion a bit but can you blame me? From what I have heard, those tributes spend years training with all the sharp things we'll be armed with in the arena. The three of us? Well let's just say I'd be surprised if any one of us can wield a kitchen knife effectively.

Avrie pulls me into an elevator after her and the door closes just as another pair of tributes hurries in. I must have been too deep in my thoughts to notice that Eira and the rest of our team had taken another elevator. I press myself into the wall that Avrie and I take and notice the boy across the cart from me doing the same thing. Judging by the theme of his costume I guess that him and the girl beside him are from District Seven.

I catch the boy's eye for only a second and notice him crack a shy smile. It takes everything in me to return it as the sides of the elevator cart seem to close the four of us in closer and closer together. My hands are shaking and I hide them behind me so as not to let either of the District Seven tributes see. My eyes flash up to the digital screen that tells us what floor we are on.

I let out a loud breath as the doors slide open to allow the two tributes onto their floor. Once they're gone, Avrie turns to me. "If you were trying to hide your nerves, you are going to have to give it a better shot next time. You're sweating more than a porcupine in a balloon factory."

"Huh?"

"It's a saying I used to hear," she shrugs. "It seemed to apply to you pretty well."

"Oh," I say sheepishly. A porcupine in a balloon factory? What does that even have to do with anything? I'm too scared to ask, thinking that it will probably make me look even worse in her eyes, which is the last thing I need. Just because we all agreed to be allies on the train doesn't mean they'll always mean it. If I can't figure out a way to make myself necessary, they will always have the option of killing me off on the second or third day.

_If I even make it that far. _

I do my best to shake the negativity out of my head as the doors slide open and let us out on our floor. As we open the door to our suite I see that Eira has already made it back and has changed out of her ripped dress. I look down at my own costume and resist the urge to throw up. I definitely need to change as soon as humanly possible.

"Are either of you hungry?" Delia asks from her seat at the dining table. "I've already placed an order but I'd be happy to place another for you two."

"I'd love something," Avrie says, making her way over to the table to sit across from Eira. "Whatever you ordered for Eira just order me some of that."

Delia turns to me. "And you, sweetheart?"

"Um, no thank you," I mumble. "I think I'm going to go and change."

"Hurry," Avrie instructs me. "We're going to talk about our strategy soon and you need to be here for that."

"Wouldn't miss it."

* * *

**Aluma Rye, 16, District Five**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

We all looked like a bunch of idiots, especially those District One kids. My father had told me stories about peacocks when I was little, so it wasn't hard for me to recognize what their stylist was trying to do. It looked legit, hot even, and the Capitol definitely liked it. Though I bet District One could come out wearing District Twelve clothes and they'd still be the favourites.

It's rather unfair that they are so automatically liked by the Capitol just because of where they were born, while people like me and Gideon struggle to even get noticed, not that I'd be worrying about that if my life didn't depend on it.

"How do you think it went, Gideon?"

I almost chuckle at the escorts words. She already knows not to ask me, or talk to me in any way, because she knows I simply won't respond.

It's nothing against her, I know she's just doing her job, I just find small talk to be trivial, so I don't partake in it whatsoever. Not do I talk that much to begin with, I'd much rather observe, after all like my father always told me, you never learn anything new while talking.

"It was fine," Gideon replies, continuing to stare at the television as it replays the events of earlier this evening.

"Just fine?"

"Yes."

Gideon is a weird one, one I haven't quite figured out yet. He's nice enough, but he's definitely moody. I caught him snapping at the escort on multiple occasions on our journey to the Capitol, over petty little things even I wouldn't care about.

There was one thing I had noticed though, and those were the little round scars that littered his arms, scars that matched those of a drug addiction. I'd kept an eye on him throughout the train ride, to see if I could gather any signs that he was still using, but other then a few extended bathroom breaks, I had come up with nothing.

Maybe I was wrong, I'd considered it before, but I also couldn't think of anything other than a needle that could form those marks on his arms.

"Come on Aluma, let's go in private to talk strategy."

I don't hesitate before getting up, following Gideon as he begins to move towards the hallway.

"Why not here? We are on the same team you know," the escort questions, but Gideon doesn't respond, and she knows very well I won't.

I follow Gideon into his room, where he throws himself on the bed, and then looks at me expectantly.

I however sit on the floor, there's no way I'm climbing into bed with someone I barely know. He looks hurt for a second, but he quickly gets over it, sitting up and studying me.

"What?" I finally say when his gaze begins to make me uncomfortable. He doesn't respond, other than a shake of his head.

It falls silent again after that, Gideon starring out the window out at the Capitol. I never thought I'd be here, in the Capitol, sitting in one of the nicest rooms I've ever been in with a complete stranger who I know nothing about.

The Hunger Games is something you fear from childhood, but it was never a true fear for me. When I thought about it, I always thought it'd happen to someone else, someone who I didn't know,who'd enter the Games and die, and I'd feel sad for a few days, but then I'd get over it and return to my normal life. Even with tesserae, my odds were slim, so what was I to fear? Luck has always been on my side, so going into the Games was something that would never happen to me. If only younger me could see me now.

Would I have lived differently though? Would I live my life with no regrets like I always wished I'd could? Would I have no fears, and do everything I've ever wanted? Perhaps I could have forgiven my mom, or made some friends? Or would have I become a slave to the Games? Would knowing that I'd be reaped turn me into one of those mindless robots from the career District's that spend their whole childhood training, learning to fight, and losing all this emotions? Would that have really been better than what I had for a life?

It doesn't matter I guess, it's in the past, and nothing can change it. I'm stuck with the choices I've made, and that's left me with very little skills to survive this thing, but boy am I going to try.

I might be small, and weak, and hate social environments, but I'm not done yet. I've got a life to live, and things to do, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some stupid Game ruin it.

"Are you nervous for training?" Gideon suddenly asks, startling me slightly.

I shake me head, for even if I was I wouldn't tell him. Training is the thing I'm most looking forward to. It's my chance to see how far I really am out of my element, and how low my chances truly are, but it's also my chance to improve those chances, because I know that interview won't help me at all.

"I am," he quietly admits, though I don't know how to respond, so I don't.

A few moments more of silence pass before Gideon pulls himself under the blankets, and I take the hint that he's tired and ready for bed.

"Goodnight Aluma," Gideon says as I stand up to leave, flicking off his lamp. I nod my head in response, but I'm sure it's too dark for him to see.

I slip out of his room, and into my own, shredding off the clothes I had put on after the parade, and climbing into bed.

I think about the parade, and the Capitol's less than enthusiastic response to us, and it almost saddens me. They don't know me, or how capable I am, for all they know I could be equally as skilled as their precious careers.

I let out a small chuckle at the thought. Wouldn't that be a plot twist; the petite quiet girl from District Five shocking the world as she tears apart the entire career alliance with such grace.

The thought leaves a smile on my face as I close my eyes, and even though it's impossible, I can't keep the thought of their blood all over my hands as I take my crown and am introduced as victor out of my head.

* * *

**Atlas Majors, 16, District Four**

**Acereader55**

* * *

"I'm going to bed, goodnight losers." Ebba storms out of the living room with an aura of overconfidence and an ego the size of the Capitol. One day, that ego is going to be the downfall of her. That day might come sooner than she thinks it will.

Our idiotic and simple-minded escort follows Ebba out of the living room area, and our mentors quickly leave together, all heading for the same bedroom, which can't mean something good or pure is happening in there.

"Interesting how we're the last ones up together, isn't it?" Deidre asks, shuffling herself over towards me on the long, tan couch that we are seated on. "We've not said more than five words to each other the entire time we've been in each other's presence, and now we're forced to interact since all the others are asleep." She laughs a little bit, a sort of laugh that you would expect from someone that is in their late childhood stage of life.

"Yes, I suppose it is interesting in a way."

"The Chariot Rides were certainly interesting, weren't they?" She smiles at me, and I can tell that she's trying to pry some personal information out of me, but I'm not biting. Relationships are pointless, even outside of the Games. People were only invented to hurt each other, and there's no way that I will ever form a relationship with someone that is the size of a young child.

"They were interesting."

"Not much of a talker are you?"

"Never have been."

"Hm," Deidre clicks her tongue and seems to be in deep thought before she opens her mouth again. "Well, maybe talking about yourself might feel a bit more natural then." She once again shifts her body in order to move closer to me, and then lays her head on a nearby pillow.

"Talking isn't my forte." She's clearly not getting the message that I really do not want to interact with her in any way shape or form, as she continues to stare at me waiting for me to talk to her about my personal life and experience. "If you really want to know something, I've trained since I was a young child. I have a few siblings. Tough parents. I like to use a dagger. That enough for you?"

"A dagger?" She scoffs, and then begins to laugh a little. "For someone of your stature a dagger doesn't make much sense to use, now does it?"

"And what, might I ask, is your preferred weapon?" I ask. "Surely someone of your stature can't handle more than a small knife or a sewing needle?"

I know I've crossed the line as soon as those words left my mouth, and I can see her eyes narrow and her dainty smile turn into an enraged frown. I don't really care if I piss off a person here or there, but I certainly don't want to piss someone off that could be a potential ally and someone that I could learn to really trust as these days go on.

"I happen to be the best shot with a bow in the academy, and I also happen to be known for taking down people that are older, stronger, and more talented than you are. You should have waited to volunteer boy, you're much too young now and there's no going back. I tried being polite with you, but you're nothing more than a mere shadow of Ebba. Good luck, you're going to need it."

After her little speech, Deidre storms away from me and into the hallway that has several doors leading into the many bedrooms in this floor. I can hear her slam the door shut, and finally silence ensues.

What the hell just happened though? She seemed like such a sweet little girl before this little meet and greet, but now I'm definitely wary of her. She was so sweet and naïve in my eyes just a few minutes ago, but like the flip of a switch she turned into this vicious, raging bitch. Bipolar possibly? Or maybe just extremely temperamental. Either way, she's turned from a naïve girl that just wanted to get to know me into a raging bitch that seemed to want to kill me.

The Chariot Rides are currently airing on the television in front of me, but I'm in no mood to watch that horrible event once again after I lived through it, so I shut the television off by clapping my hands together, and the screen turns to black very quickly. I get up off of the pale couch, and walk towards my designated room, which was ironically located next to Deidre's.

As I get into my room, I can't help but wonder how different everything would be if I hadn't volunteered and my brother had. Would Deidre have gone off on him like she did on me? Would I die and would my brother come back victorious? Would this be a mistake I would regret for the rest of my life?

These thoughts and many more will haunt me for the rest of my life, no matter how much longer my life shall be. These terrible thoughts plague me as I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Song: No Curtain Call by Maroon 5**

* * *

**A/N: Again, Olive here. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I am very happy to say it was on time! We're all very happy with how this chapter turned out, hopefully you all are as well. **

**If you could spare the time to drop us a review it would be much appreciated. It is always nice to hear how we are doing and check in with what you guys are thinking. Here are some questions we'd love to hear your responses to. **

_**Who are your favourites from this chapter?**_

_**Do you see any possible alliances?**_

**We will continue with the first day of training next chapter!**

* * *

**Side A/N: I have started another story, also on this account, and I would love it if any of you would head over and submit! The story is called **_**Devils and Dust**_** and will be following the very first Hunger Games. Thanks!**


	7. Break

**Try by Colbie Caillat**

* * *

_You don't have to try so hard_

_You don't have to bend until you break_

* * *

**Xylia Devrine, 18, District Twelve**

**Acereader55**

* * *

Nothing says good morning like the slam of a hand outside your door.

"Xylia, it's time to get up dear!" My Escort continues to rap her knuckles onto the steel door of my room, and apparently doesn't get the hint that I don't want to get up. "I can't have my only tribute being late for the first day of training!"

The shrill voice of my escort does nothing to me other than make my ears hurt. Her voice is one of the most annoying ones I've ever heard, and I wanted nothing more than to slap her in the face to shut her up. I rip the silk covers off of my body and stand up, facing the gigantic window that was right next to my king-sized bed. I shuffle to the door to the bathroom, but before I can slip in through the door my Escort barges through my door, shying away immediately at the sight of my rather exposed body.

"For the love of Panem please get ready… and put some clothes on." My Escort is still shying away from looking at me. Apparently, she's never seen a pale, thin district body before. "We don't want to be late."

"Correction, _you_ don't want _me_ to be late," I snap back. "Big difference." I can feel the glare of my Escort as I turn my head to walk in through the bathroom door. "I'm going to take a shower and get my training clothes on, then I'll meet you at the table for breakfast. Now shoo, unless you'd like to see more than you already have." With that small threat, my Escort takes off from my room, slamming the door shut behind her.

It's rather unfortunate that I am the lone tribute from District Twelve. I have no doubt if there was someone else to focus her attention on, she would most certainly focus her attention on them rather than me. But alas, I am the sole tribute from my wretched district and have to endure all of the unwanted attention that my Escort so loves to give me.

I slide out of my underwear that I was wearing to bed last night and turn on the shower. Right away steam protrudes from the water and fills the air around me, effectively making the room warmer than it previously was. The mirrors fog up and I take that as my cue to slip into the shower.

The water encases my body in a wet tube of sorts, and I am quite literally drenched in a matter of seconds. The warm water running down my body feels so relaxing and it's a luxury I didn't get very often at home. As I lather my body in a variety of shampoos and soaps, I can't help but bask in the amazing shower that I am standing in.

Back at home, we were lucky enough to have food on the table every night. My father and mother worked as best as they could to provide for myself, and I worked every job on the side that my body could manage. We were a tight knit family and were willing to do anything to help each other- and we did just that.

Sadly, my parents decided that it would be a _fantastic_ idea to have another child, despite the fact that they could barely support themselves and their one child they already had. My mother was immediately put out of work because she couldn't do much physical labor while pregnant, and as fate would have it, my father was diagnosed with breathing problems due to his extensive work in the coal mines, rendering him unable to work any longer.

This left me as the sole care taker for the family, and while it was difficult it taught me that hard work could get you every where. It may have hardened me and made me a stone cold bitch, but if everything didn't happen the way it did, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

After flashes of my sister's birth whiz through my mind, I rinse my pale body off for the last time and shut off the warm water with the handle in the shower, cutting off the water from my body quickly. I step out of the round shower room and wrap a towel around my body, trying to keep myself as warm as possible in the now seemingly chilly air. I wipe some fog off from the mirror and watch myself in the reflection. I purse my lips and grab a second towel on the floor, drying my dark hair quickly before throwing both towels on the floor and wandering into my bedroom once again.

I easily find the training outfit in the closet and slip it on. I notice the bright red stitching on my left arm reading '12F'. As if anyone wouldn't be able to identify the lone tribute from Twelve?

I saunter out of my regal bedroom and waltz into the dining area, where my irritating Escort is sitting in a chair, tapping her foot impatiently and sending a seething glare my way when she notices me walking into the room.

"You took forever Xylia!" She screeches. "We don't have time for breakfast at this point, you'll have to just wait for lunch dear." She scurries over to me in her high heeled shoes and loops her arm around mine, guiding me towards the elevator which is situated on the other side of the main room on the floor. "You'll be training for the majority of the day. You will have a break for lunch in the middle, and then training will resume before you come back up for the night. Do have fun dear, and please, try and change your attitude. Allies are wonderful to have!"

She hits a button in the elevator and the doors close swiftly, just as she moves her body out of the elevator. Guess she didn't want to accompany me on the way down. No matter,. I really don't need her nagging voice in my ear any longer.

The elevator reaches it's destination and the doors slide open once again, revealing the hallway with glass doors at the end that will lead me into the Training Center. Guess it's time to meet the other people that will be trying to kill me in a few days time.

How exciting.

* * *

**Gideon Challene, 16, District Five**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"Tributes."

The one word brings all of the attention towards the centre of the semicircle that we have formed around the main floor of the Training Centre. Silence falls over the group of us as we all take in the woman standing before us who seemed to have come out of nowhere.

"Welcome," her purple lips part in a sweet smile and I wonder who this girl is. She looks no older than twenty, with a strong but small frame and a cascading ponytail of thick hair falling over her shoulder. "My name is Vidia and I am the Head Trainer here at the Training Academy. My staff and I will be here to assist you in your preparation for the Quarter Quell."

I am dumbfounded that the small girl standing in front of me could possibly be a trainer, let alone the Head Trainer, but the more I look at her eyes the less surprised I am. She looks like the type of girl that won't settle for anything less than what she wants, and like some of the Career tributes that look dainty or delicate, she looks like she has the potential to be dangerous. I stand up a bit straighter, deciding that I should probably concentrate on why I am here instead of why she is.

"Before I let you loose on my centre, I was told to give you some words of encouragement," she continues, her eyes darting around to meet each one of us. As soon as her eyes find me I look down at my feet. "Look around you. Whether you know it or not, you are all in this together. As a group you will decide which one of you is best suited to take on the role of Victor. So I advise you to look to each other, criticize and watch. Train with things that you see them lacking skill in. Prepare yourself but note that everyone around you will be doing the same."

I swallow hard and do my best to commit her words to memory. I know what I came in today to work on, I discussed that with my mentors late last night when I found that sleep wasn't coming as easily as I'd hoped. Vidia's words make sense, though. I look up from the ground and look around shyly, getting my first good look at everyone as I would see them in the arena.

My chances are looking worse with every face I memorize.

"Now go on," Vidia says finally. "Learn what you can, figure out who you can trust, and probably most importantly decide what you don't have time for and can bullshit in the arena."

With that Vidia slips away to stand with the other trainers at the weapons stations. The Career tributes are the first ones that seem to be able to get their bearings, moving as a collective group towards where Vidia had gone. It takes a few more seconds, but soon everyone else begins to find the courage to go off in search of... whatever it was they were looking for.

Soon I realize that I am one of the only tributes still standing on the main floor and I scurry off to one side of the facility, my eyes searching for anything that might catch them. I skip over the weapons section entirely, I don't think I am quite ready to handle that amount of stress right now.

I notice a strange looking setup in one corner of the centre and head over to check it out. There are two podiums set up facing each other, each with a large touch screen pad on it. Further inspections proves that both pads are identical and seen to match up to two much larger screens that are displayed on the wall.

As I am playing around with the screen, seeing what exactly the setup would be used for, I notice Aluma standing a few feet away watching me. I give her a sideways glance and after an initial surprised reaction she scurries a bit closer to me.

"Hey Aluma," I say, mostly to break the awkward silence and to see what she wanted. I haven't really talked to Aluma very much, she has always kept to her room by herself during the free time we have had, but I can tell that she is about as genuine as they come. While I don't mind her hanging around with me, I also hadn't yet thought about us possibly being allies.

"What is it?" She whispers, pointing to the podium I am toying with.

"I think it's a game or something," I shrug. "All I've seen so far is that it lights up green when I match two of these tiny pictures together. It's probably a race to see who can do it faster, there's a timer up there."

"Oh cool," she says, her brown eyes lighting up. I assume that she would ask something else or say something else or... something. The silence is making me uncomfortable. I figure that she must want to talk or that she at least doesn't mind my company if she followed me here, but her distant expression doesn't help to make me any less self-conscious.

Finally I figure that I will have to be the one to continue this conversation, otherwise we will waste all day standing here staring at some stupid picture game. "Wanna play?"

Immediately her head shoots up and she nods excitedly, rushing to take the second podium as if someone might try to steal it from her. I sigh and press the start button. This game might be just a little bit pointless, but if it helps me get somewhere with Aluma I would say it's worth it.

* * *

**Dierdre Lewell, 18, District Four**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"No, like this," Eden corrects my posture and I nod at her graciously. "You get better leverage if you have one foot in the front."

The first hour of training has been nothing like how I expected it would be. In District Four, training started with warm-ups, moving into strategy and practical skills, and then finally the majority of time spent training with our weapon groups. I was assigned to archery after my one year assessment, and I have never seriously trained with any other weapon since then.

It was an almost unanimous vote that we would all practice with a variety of weapons this morning, especially since it is not uncommon for certain weapons to be left out of the Cornucopia. So far I have found that I haven't lost much of my accuracy with throwing knives, but with most close range weapons I am struggling.

I didn't expect to forge anything more than a professional relationship with any of the other Career tributes. It was understood in my academy training that the alliance was imperative to success in the Games, but prior to meeting them last night at the Tribute Parade I hadn't really considered them anything more than a weapon.

My district partners I had been prepared for. I hadn't seen either of them before, but my guard was already long up before I even volunteered. I had no desire to make friends in this place, not with what would lie ahead. I had the tendency to be fiercely loyal, and the only one I could afford to be loyal to in the arena was myself.

Unfortunately, the other tributes took my by almost a surprise. As soon as I talked to Eden I knew I was in trouble. Right away she reminded me of Dominic, the only real friend I left behind in District Four. Since then it's been far too easy to talk to her, but I don't necessarily want to break the bond despite the uncertainty. I didn't realize how lonely I would feel surrounding myself with people that I won't let myself like.

"What's going on over there?" She says suddenly and I turn towards where she is looking. Raleigh and Jasper stand face to face with Arnette, and none of them look happy. Already, Ebba and Glint have noticed and are making their way towards the group. Eden and I look at each other and head over as well.

By the time we are standing around them, I have heard enough of the argument to vaguely understand what is happening and I can tell Eden and everyone else does as well, but even so Eden breaks in with the question. "What the hell is going on?"

Arnette is the first one to speak. "They don't think we should have a leader!"

No one knows what to say after that. I think to some degree we all want Raleigh or Jasper to clarify, maybe say that they simply don't want the District Two girl as the leader. After all it is customary that someone takes charge. With all the differences in training that the three career districts have received, it only makes sense.

Raleigh and Jasper look at each other, probably all too aware of the uneasy response of the rest of us. Finally, Jasper speaks up. "We discussed this in our suite last night. We feel that because of the size of the group it would make the most sense that we would all have equal control. Glint and Zaria were on board as of last night."

Al at once, everyone's gaze shifts to the remaining two District One tributes who each nod but say nothing. By the time I turn back to Arnette, her face is red with anger. "If you guys feel so strongly about that, then make your own group. I am sticking to what works."

"Okay then," Jasper says simply, his face remaining the picture of calm despite Arnette's absurd proposition. "If you want to be dictated, go with Arnette. If you want to win, come with Raleigh and I."

I don't consider the idea that they might be serious until I notice Glint and Zaris shifting to stand closer to Jasper and Raleigh. Almost just as quickly, Braden and Eden move in support of their District Two comrade. Soon enough, I realize that I have to make a move or else I am going to be left behind. My head swims with the two possibilities but I can't seem to make a decision.

Ebba and Atlas are standing with the District Two group before I can understand what is happening. I know that I have to choose, and fast, before both groups decide that they are better off without me.

I take a step towards the District One group and Raleigh's face lights up in a smile. She reaches her hand out and gently pulls me to her side, wrapping her arm around me. I shy away from her touch and she throws me a questioning look for a moment before it vanishes. At least she seems glad to have me, and it will definitely help that I am not with Ebba and Atlas anymore. This split might not actually be such a bad idea.

I lift my head up to look at the other group and all of a sudden it is like my heart has fallen into my stomach. The first person's gaze that I catch is Eden's, her lips parted and eyebrows creased with hurt. I'm almost certain that my face mimics hers as I realize what I have just done.

After a quick discussion that I am not a part of, my group decides that we are going to have our first run at the gauntlet and then the running track before lunch. When I don't immediately move with them, Raleigh softly pulls my arm and I stumble a couple steps forward.

I can't help myself, as I am led away from the other Careers I look back. The tension between the two groups is so thick that I don't know if a knife could cut it, but it is nothing in comparison to the look in Eden's eyes as we walk in opposite directions.

* * *

**Arnette Lyrin, 18, District Two**

**Acereader55**

* * *

Honestly, who does the bimbo bitch think she is?" I screech rather loudly, not caring what amount of people stare at me. "Honestly, does the blonde slut think that she can take me down? I've trained the same, if not longer than she has and I undoubtedly am better than her at any weapon she tries her hand at."

I flip my bright red hair over my shoulder and continue to rant about how stupid Raleigh really is. Is she honestly that air headed that she thinks she can make her own pack to take on me and mine? Preposterous. She should better than to take me and my fellow pack members on.

"Calm down Arnette," I hear Eden say. "It's not like whining about it will make the situation any better." I whip my head around to stare at one of my District partners and send her a glare. I'm not whining. I'm simply venting my frustration on how an idiotic bimbo from One thinks that she can ruin my chances at being leader of the largest career pack in Games history.

"Whatever. The past is the past. Let's just move on and show the other pack what we are really made of." I'm not surprised at Ebba's desire to show some of the others up. She's a rather… unattractive female to say the least, and I assume the only way she can actually show up others is when she's training. By all means, as long she can kill, I have no problem with looks.

"I agree," Eden says and behind her, Braden nods his head. Always the quiet one and never speaking, I never really notice Braden until he makes his presence known. Honestly, I'm rather glad that he chose to stick with us. I certainly would like to see my enemy before they stab me in the back, and with Braden, I know I would never see him coming.

As we head over to the weapons station as a pack, I can't help but watch Braden some more. Being from District Two, we are hand chosen to enter the Games just after the previous ones conclude, giving us plenty of time to train in overdrive and assert our dominance, showing the other trainees why we were chosen over them and to show the trainers that they made the right decision in picking us. Braden and I were the chosen two to enter the Games, and I was always curious as to why he was chosen. I had never seen Braden before he was chosen, which isn't a shock considering the academy is rather large. The minute I saw him swing weapons around though, I knew why he was chosen.

Eden is a different story. The poor girl was rejected for these Games, her lost shot at entering and dominating. But when the Quell was announced, the trainers unanimously agreed that Eden would be joining us. Obviously, like us, she was chosen to enter for a reason and must not be taken lightly. I know the girl is an edgy one, and it would be in my best interest not to piss her off more than I absolutely need to. I've probably pissed her off enough today, best not piss her off anymore any time soon.

"Arnette?" I snap out of my thoughts and quickly turn to Atlas. "Would you like to answer the question?"

"Excuse me?" I ask, not aware that a question was asked to me.

"I said, what weapon should we begin to train with?" Atlas raises his eyebrow and I squint my eyes into a glare, not pleased with his lack of respect for the leader.

"Train with whatever you please," I tell the pack. "Show off as best as you can. We want to intimidate the other tributes as much as possible, especially the other pack." They all nod and turn away, going over to train with their respective weapons of choice. I, however, carefully watch all of them before I begin hacking away at a dummy with my specialty weapon, a stiletto sword.

Coming into this, I knew that Braden was most comfortable with throwing knives. When I first found out, I nearly laughed my head off. Someone of that size, stature, and gender surely couldn't be accurate enough to throw those tiny knives at targets? I couldn't have been more wrong. He was impeccable and hit every target squarely in the center. Rather impressive, I might add. Eden also was not a mystery. We had sparred several times before coming her, and I knew she was well trained with spears. The District Four tributes though, were a total mystery.

Atlas shifted towards the simple knife station and picked up a few daggers, easily slicing through the dummies placed in front of him. Interesting that someone like him would pick something so simple and easy to use, but at least he knows how to use them well. Ebba was rather typical, if I do say so. She went straight for what Four was known for being good at- tridents. She threw a few tridents around at the dummies and proceeded to slash at a few more, cotton spilling to the floor in lumps.

As she turned around to slash another dummy, she caught me staring and flashed me a hideous smirk, revealing her unpolished teeth. She quickly turned back and continued to mutilate dummies left and right, probably intimidating most of the other tributes.

I calmly made my way over to the swords station and picked one up, throwing it between my hands and testing its weight. Deciding it was good enough for me to use, I walked over to the dummies in the section and began to hack away at them, imagining them to be people in my life that had crossed me.

As I came down to the last dummy that was still upright, I imagined the neck to be that of Raleigh's. I grinned as I brought my sword up to the neck and made a quick slash across it, sending cotton tumbling to the floor.

Oh yes, these Games were certainly most worth volunteering for.

* * *

**Matilda Prescott, 18, District Nine**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

"Savvy, your hair, it's a mess," I can't help but point out as the three of us take our seat. I catch the younger girls eye roll, but I smile when she reaches up to fix her hair.

"We have been training," she sarcastically grumbles.

It was quite a rough morning, if I must say. Savvy and Maelle both decided today was weapons day, so we've been wielding them all morning, much to my dismay. So far what we've learned is that Maelle can swing a machete, and Savvy can punch with one of those silly knuckle things. But me, well I can hold a knife, and that's about it.

I tried several things; a machete, a scythe, even a crossbow! But nothing, most of the trainers just laughed when I attempted to face them. I hardly care though, that's not my role in this alliance, Savvy and Maelle can defend us, im just here to lead.

"Maelle, stop that," I screech when the girl begins dragging her knife along her plate.

"Yah Maelle," Savvy jokes, sticking her tongue out at the older girl.

"Savvy! How rude, this a table. Have some manors!"

Both girls chuckle and role their eyes, though I have no idea why. I just shake my head, taking a bite out of the bread they have provided us with for lunch. I'll never understand the Capitol; we've received nothing but the best food since we've arrived, and now, during training we are given a small cup of soup and a single slice of bread. This is most certainly not enough to give me the energy I need to learn how to do what I need to do.

"So, interviews, who knows what their doing?"

Maelle does nothing but glare at me, and Savvy just shakes her head, continuing to eat her soup. I don't understand the pair sometimes, they asked me to join their alliance, but everything I try to contribute they just shoot down. I begin to think this alliance might be a bad idea, but then I remember how totally screwed I'd be without one. If only Savvy and Maelle would just listen and do what I say, but neither girl is very passive. An idea suddenly pops into my mind. I may not be able to control Savvy and Maelle as much as I'd like, but what's to say I can't add someone to this alliance who could.

"What do you girls think of adding a fourth member to our little group?"

Savvy and Maelle exchange a glance, both looking a little more than skeptical.

"What's wrong with just the three of us?"

"Oh nothing, I just thought the more numbers we have the better," I say, already searching the room for the perfect match. I consider the little girls from District Seven and Eleven, but there's not much they can do for me, plus they both come off as a little bit sassy and I haven't got the time for that. The girl from Twelve sits alone, glaring at anyone who nears her. Definitely not that one, she doesn't look easily controlled.

I smile as I spot the District Ten girl, sat alone at a table, awkwardly picking at her slice of bread. I remember her from the parade. I had seen her being yelled at by her District partner, and I had quickly intervened. The boy was cute, no doubt, but he was nothing short of an asshole, yelling at the girl for being scared of what was to come. The girl had thanked me, but nothing more had come out of the conversation. Shortly after we parted ways, and I never even caught her name, but I will this time.

"What about her?" I chime, nodding towards the lonely looking girl.

"I watched her in training, timid thing she is. She's not useful, so my vote is no," Maelle calmly says, returning to her soup without so much as a second thought.

"If nothing more, she'd be a good meat shield," I quickly say, before Savvy can voice her opinion.

"That's horrid Mattie," I shrug, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do, but really that's not the real reason I want her.

I stand up without another word, floating off towards the girl, completely ignoring the protests and groans I get from my allies. They just don't understand, I need this girl, and I always get what I need.

"Hi there, remember me?" I say as I sit down directly across from the girl. She looks around nervously, before nodding her head.

"You look lonely over here all by yourself."

"I'm used to it," she says, and I can't help but catch the sadness in her voice.

"I'm Matilda, but no one calls me that ugly name. Mattie is more to my style, and I'm the sole representative from District Nine!" I introduce myself with a smile, in attempt to ease the girls nerves.

"Corlis, District Ten."

"What a pretty name, why don't you come sit with us? I'm sure you'd feel much better with a few friends!" I say, grabbing the girls hand before she can reply, and dragging her over to the table where Savvy and Maelle still sit.

"She agreed!" I cheer as soon as Corlis and I sit, though I don't think she actually ever did. I can't remember, anyways she's sitting with us so that must mean she agreed!

Maelle and Savvy exchange another glance, before cautiously introducing themselves to Corlis, who repeats the exact introduction she gave me.

"Don't mind them, they can be a little rude sometimes," I say as I nudge Corlis with a chuckle. Surprisingly she smiles back, letting out a little chuckle of her own. Look at her, already starting to come out of her shell, all thanks to me! I'm some sort of miracle worker I think, whatever it is, it won't take me long to get Corlis right where I want her, which is right in the palm of my hand. I'm not exactly sure what I'll need her for, but it can never hurt to have someone in your back pocket, especially if it comes down to the four of us, because I have an odd feeling Maelle and Savvy would turn on me before each other.

Oh well, I have Corlis now, which means I can do whatever I want, including take out Savvy and Maelle if that's what I see fit.

These are my Games, and they're going to go exactly how I want them to.

* * *

**Maelle Thurske, 18, District Three**

**Acereader55**

* * *

I still have no idea what Matilda was thinking.

The alliance of Savvy, Matilda, and I was perfectly fine just the three of us. We worked well together in this first morning of training, and we seemed to be getting along well enough, though Matilda definitely was a little…odd. My suspicions of her were furthered even more when she randomly added another member to our alliance, Corlis from Ten.

Not that Corlis is a bad person, by any means. It's just very strange that Matilda would,on a whim, randomly add someone else to our already working alliance, even after I had vetoed the idea when it was originally presented to me. Something is definitely off, and I'm going to really have to watch my back.

"So girls," Matilda says. "Where to now?" Corlis looks down at her shoes and Savvy makes no motion to speak, so I take the liberty to answer her question.

"I think it might be a good idea to train with the weapons some more. Especially now that Corlis is here, it might be a good idea to see what she can do." Corlis springs her head up and I can see the worry in her eyes after being asked to show what she can do. Clearly, the answer there is that she can't do much, as I originally suspected.

"I think we should look at some survival skills!" Matilda says, way too cheery for my liking. "Don't you agree Corlis?"

At the mention of her name being brought up again, Corlis frantically looks around at us, struggling to form a response when everyone is looking at her.

"Well, I-I think we should-"

"Then it's settled, survival skills it is!" Matilda giggles happily and claps her hands, quickly sliding her arm around Corlis' arm and yanks her towards the survival station, practically yanking the poor girl's arm off. Guess survival skills it is.

As Corlis and Matilda are rushing ahead of us, I take the time to hang back with Savvy and get her opinion on the Matilda and Corlis situation that we are facing.

"How are you dealing with everything?"

"Everything is fine I guess," Savvy says. "I'd rather be home obviously, but it could be a lot worse right now. We're definitely fairing better than most other tributes are right now."

"You're not at all worried about Matilda though?" I ask. "I mean, she added Corlis on a whim even after we obviously didn't want her to be here, and now she's acting like she owns us and controls us."

"I think paranoia is already starting to get to you," Savvy responds. "But it definitely wouldn't hurt to keep our guard up and keep an eye out for her." Savvy smiles at me and I give a small smile back, not completely satisfied that Savvy doesn't share my concerns completely. How is it that I'm the only one that can sense that something isn't right with this girl?

As we approach the survival station, I see Savvy walk back over towards Corlis and give her a warm smile. Savvy is definitely trying to build bridges for us, because at this point Corlis hasn't said one word to either of us, and if something ever does happy with Matilda, we'll definitely need all the help we can get to take her down.

As Savvy talks with Corlis, I notice Matilda out of the corner of my eyes sorting some leaves on the ground. I walk over to her and sit down, cross-legged, next to her. As I sit next to her, she tilts her head to see my face and she smiles at me before resuming to finishing sorting the leaves in front of her. When she finishes, she turns to me and smiles again.

"I know you don't like me." Her sudden serious tone shocks me, as she is usually filled with cheeriness and is always bubbly. "It's written all over your face, don't think I can't see that. I'm here to tell you that you need to get in check. I'm the leader here, and don't think I wouldn't hesitate to kick you out."

"Excuse me?" I state, completely in shock at what has just been relayed to me.

"Don't tell Savvy or Corlis about the conversation we just had, dear. Because if you do… expect the rest of your life to be hell on earth."

She flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder and shuffles over to where Savvy and Corlis are seated. She smiles warmly at them and acts as if the conversation with me didn't just happen.

I knew something was up with this girl, and I'm seriously regretting getting into an alliance with her. At this rate, my lifeline is very short, and it honestly scares me. I want to tell Savvy and Corlis that we have a monster in our alliance, but I know if I do that then Matilda will most certainly kill me, and I really don't want to die. But on the other hand, I know if I don't spill what happened, I'm leaving a ticking time bomb in our alliance that is sure to explode and send shrapnel at not only me, but my other allies as well.

Just how long is the timer on Matilda's inner time bomb?

* * *

**Jasper Graves, 18, District One**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

So far nothing in the Capitol has gone as planned. First off, Raleigh has convinced me that separating the pack was our best bet, and not only that, she some how convinced me to be the one to initiate her plan.

It was simple really, tell Arnette we didn't want a leader, and send the girl into overdrive. It wasn't hard to tell that Arnette wanted to be the leader, and she reacted just how Raleigh said she would. She flipped, suggesting the careers split, and I merely agreed. And now, we have two career packs, which has it's ups and down, though Raleigh seems to think the positives out weight the negatives, though I'm not too sure.

"Jasper, trainings over," I turn to see Raleigh standing directly behind me, smirking at the dummy I had previously been destroying with my rapier.

"You really went to town," she laughs, and I nod, giving her a small smirk before retuning my sword to the station and walking towards the elevators.

Raleigh joins me on my walk, keeping in line with my pace, even though her eyes are constantly observing everyone we pass. It's a skill that I have no idea how she does; for a dumb blonde, she sure knows how to walk without paying attention.

Of course Raleigh isn't actually that dumb, she just has her quirky moments that make me want to shake her until she sees how idiotic she's being.

"I told you my plan would work," she brags once we are safely alone in the elevator.

"Somewhat," I say, attempting to bring her down a peg on the ego. "You said most of them would come with us, though it's split right down the middle."

"I don't understand it, they're idiots if they think Arnette is in any position to lead them to victory. It doesn't matter though, Glint and Zaria stuck to their word, and we have Dierdre, we could take them down."

"Its not going to be as easy as you're making it out to be."

Raleigh doesn't reply, instead she just rolls her eyes at me. She can be so immature at times, and just plain naive. It's a wonder she made it onto that stage at the reaping, I have no idea what the academy sees in her to send her in, but whatever it is she's hiding it, and I won't soon forget that.

Raleigh may have everyone else fooled, but I know she can't be as.. Well as stupid as she wants everyone to believe she is. I know the academy, and I know how hard it is to be chosen for the Games, perhaps better than anyone else. I've been trying to get in since I started, and year after year I was denied, never being good enough for the Games, this year being no different. Glint was chosen, and I had all but accepted that I would never step foot in an arena, but when the quell was announced, I was the only one with the dedication to keep training, so the academy didn't really have any other choices but to pick me. Raleigh wasn't chosen for her good looks, no matter how good they are.

She's hiding something, and perhaps that's why I'm so drawn to her. She's peeked my interest no doubt, and no matter how much I have to scold her, I plan on bringing her along with me, until either she gets too annoying, or becomes un-useful, whichever happens to come first.

The elevator clicks open, and Raleigh and I step back onto our floor. The first thing I notice is that Glint and Zaria are already sat the dinning table with our escort, blabbering away about the days events.

"You're really separated? Oh my the Capitol is going to love it! Two career packs! Whose wonderful idea was this?"

I open my mouth to give the credit where credit is deserved, but Raleigh quickly cuts me off.

"Jasper thought of it, it's pretty smart." I glance at Raleigh, raising any eyebrow in a questioning manor. But she just smiles and shrugs, returning to the conversation that has already switched topics to some trivial thing I couldn't care less about.

Soon it becomes too much for me, and I quietly excuse myself to my room, away from everyone. I can only handle them for so long before they annoy me too much and I need to get away for a little while.

Zaria isn't too bad, she's rather similar to me in the aspect that's she's more to herself. Heck I've only heard the girl speak a few times. But Glint, Glint is your stereotypical District One tributes. He's his own favourite person, and I've heard nothing come out of his mouth that didn't relate to how great he is. Raleigh is Raleigh. She's nice to be around, but eventually the bubbly attitude makes me want to snap, and considering I want to work with her for a while, that's not exactly a good idea.

Raleigh wasn't actually my first choice. I would have much rather worked with Zaria, but after only a few short conversations I knew she wasn't to be trusted. I'd have a knife in my back before the second day.

I haven't told Raleigh yet, but once the other pack is down in numbers, we're leaving our pack, perhaps taking out a few on our way. Groups have never been my thing, and I know Glint and Zaria would have no problems turning on me, and Diredre is too much of a wild card to keep around. Actually, if it wasn't for her accuracy with her bow I doubt she'd even be in with the careers; she's smaller then most of the little ones.

I consider a nap, after all there isn't much else for me to do. Socializing with the others has already ran it's limit, and unfortunately I can't go back down and train until the morning. Yes, a nap sounds nice. I'm going to need the energy for tomorrow anyways. The famous Killzone. It's something I've been looking forward to since I was chosen to volunteer. It's the true test, it'll not only tell me how ready I am, but how ready my competitors are, and who I need to target early on.

I'm just closing my eyes as a loud nock startles me, followed by Raleigh screaming at me through the door, letting me know supper is being served.

"Give me a minute you little twat," I yell back when she continues to loudly bang on the door. Day One of training and Raleigh is already driving me crazy, perhaps I did make the wrong choice in partners. Oh well, what's done is done, and there's no going back. I'll just have to work on Raleigh a little bit before we actually get into the Games, because as this rate I'll be working on my own before the gong has even sounded.

* * *

**Winifred Herring, 12, District Eleven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I push the little green spheres around my plate, absentmindedly tuning out the chatter of my mentor and escort. I was so excited to come up here and tell them about the day, but all they have done is talk over me every time I try to speak. I didn't need to leave District Eleven to get this kind of treatment.

It's strange how people that come from completely different walks of life can have turned out so similar. Kia, the person who drew my name at the Reaping, was presumably brought up in some variety of luxury. She is impeccably dressed every time I see her, in clothes that would not be functional in any sort of hands on work, and her posture reminds me of Ms Decker so much that it's almost scary.

While for most of my time in Abundance Park, the local orphanage, Ms Parsons was the one to take primary care of me, Ms Decker was in the picture far too much for my liking. She always wore these long, ridiculous dresses and had her nose up so high that she would have drowned if it rained. Despite the difference in fashion and age, Ms Decker and Kia could be the same person. Both of them seem to have some weird idea that they are above everyone that has the honour of being around them.

I can't help but break out in a smile when I think about Ms Decker. She always loved to tell me how I would be going nowhere except the orchids when I grew up. Well look at me now Ms Decker, I'm going to be a television star. The thought of her seeing me on the big screen in the cafeteria makes me want to laugh as much as it makes me want to cry.

"Winifred?"

I look up from my dinner to see Kia and Leon staring at me and my face instantly feels about a thousand degrees warmer. I whisper the correction so quietly that I am not sure if either of them heard it. "Winnie, please."

"How was your first day," Kia chirps as simply as if she were asking me how my first day of school went.

"Pretty okay," I say and I am not lying. The beginning of the day was just as horrible and awkward as I thought it would be, my eyes not willing to overlook the sheer size of a lot of the other tributes. But by the end of the day I felt almost comfortable in the small area of the centre that I found interest in. I even think I might have made a friend.

"Did you get any ally requests?" She pressed. "I've been looking into the girls from Nine and Twelve, Matilda and Xylia. They look like wonderful girls for you to stick with, strong and the Capitol audience has taken some interest in them already."

"Have you heard anything back from their mentors?" Leon asks, a slight smirk on his face. I can't exactly put my finger on what bothers me about the only living District Eleven Victor, but ever since I met him the look on his face is enough to make me hate him.

"Well... no," Kia admits. "I won't rest until I do though I can assure you that."

"You don't have to worry about that," I tell her. "I've already found an ally for myself."

"Oh, who!?" Kia asks excitedly.

"His name is Toby, he's from District Three." As soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret telling them at all. Kia's face falls seconds after hearing her name, but she says nothing to me. She turns and gives Leon a sideways look, one that I am all too familiar with. Adults all seem to have practiced that 'I'm so disappointed in her but don't let her see' look.

"Kiddo," Leon begins. "Do you understand the reason why we are suggesting Nine and Twelve as allies?"

"They're strong," I nod, my eyes filling with angry tears. "But Toby is strong too, and he's kind to me."

"They'll protect you, that is why," Leon continues, seemingly without so much as hearing my defence. "This a big-girl game, those other tributes are not going to be gentle with you just because you're younger than they are. They'll rip you apart just like they'll do to anyone else."

"Leon!" Kia scolds, then places her hand over mine with an apologetic look."He doesn't mean that. We just want you to be in the best position you can be, for your safety."

I snatch my hand away, not even bothering to blink away the tears that have begun to blur my vision. "I don't need protecting. I'm not a baby, stop treating me like one!"

I stand and slam both hands on the table, walking away as the cutlery clatters behind me. I hear Kia shout something at Leon or maybe even at me, but neither of them follows me as I storm into my room. Thank Panem because I don't think I would be able to stop myself from hurting either one of them if they had.

* * *

**Song: Try by Colbie Caillat**

* * *

**A/N: Mixing it up a little here, it's Fin! I trust you all enjoyed that chapter as much as we enjoyed writing it? I'm sure you did who am I kidding it was great! And... only one day late! Go team!**

**I think I speak for the three of us when I say we'd really appreciate it if you could take time out of your busy days to just quickly voice your opinion in the form of a review maybe? Thanks guys!**

**I think that is all for now? No new announcements, though I am hoping next weeks chapter is on time.. I'm looking at you Ace! ;)**

**OH questions of course!**

**_So, the careers are split! Thoughts? Which career pack do you like better?_**

**_Alliances are slowly starting to form, any early favourite alliances?_**

_**And finally, as always your favourite tributes and/or POVs from this chapter?**_


	8. Hope

**Move Along by The All-American Rejects**

_And even when your hope is gone_  
_Move along, move along just to make it through._

* * *

**Shay Langford, 15, District Seven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I sit up in my bed, finally coming to terms with the fact that I will not be sleeping any more. I shuffle to the floor, a good three foot drop from the top of the mattress, and go to find a clock. The hallway is dark when I cautiously step out into it, the silence enveloping me completely. Every other door is shut and I don't even hear breathing from inside.

I walk right through the dining area and into a small kitchen. The first thing that catches my eye is a big wall clock on the far side of the room. I stare at it for a few moments; it's been forever since I've had to read one for myself.

A shriek and then a second later a shattering sound come from very close to me and I can't help but scream in surprise. I search the room quickly, first seeing the white shards of broken ceramic on the floor and then finally seeing someone staring at me as if I just assaulted them.

It takes me a moment but I finally recognize him. "Regan?"

"What the hell are you doing in here?" He hisses, looking back and forth between the broken mug on the floor and me.

"I-I." Words fail me for a moment as I stare at him. "I was looking for a clock."

His eyes narrow as he stares at me, and then suddenly he breaks out in a soft laugh. I can't help myself, I break out in a smile and soon enough there we both are laughing in the kitchen at four in the morning.

"You know there's a digital one in your room?" He says, the smile staying on his face. I've never talked to Regan, he always had this look on his face that made me want to stay as far away from him as possible. Maybe it's the early time that's got him in a goofy mood, but I feel a weird sense of guilt that maybe someone should have tried talking to him.

"A... a what?" I ask, his statement sinking in. I remember scanning my room for a clock before I left. There was nothing on the walls that I could see.

"The little box on the table beside your bed," he says. "It shows the time?"

"Oh." I remember tinkering with the number box when I first got here, not knowing what it was. I feel my cheeks heat up and Regan's laughing returns. Soon enough I'm laughing right along with him once again. I think we're both in dire need of some quality sleep.

Neither of us say anything, and then I remember something. "Why are you here at four in the morning?"

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugs. "I figured I would get a head start on the stupendous amount of coffee that I'll be needing to get through today."

"I hate the taste," I say simply.

"Me too," he replies, cracking a sideways smile.

"Do you want me to help you clean that up?" I ask, pointing towards the pile of the mug's shattered remains.

"Nah," he shrugs. "There's people here whose job it is to do that shit for us. Besides, you should probably go back to sleep now that you found your... er, clock."

I give a small chuckle. "I've been awake for hours, I don't think I'd be able to go to sleep if I knocked myself over the head with one of those mugs."

"Fair enough," he shrugs. "Sleeping here hasn't been going well for me either."

"It's too quiet," I agree.

His brow creases as he thinks about that. "That's exactly it. I used to live on the edge of the forest, it's never been this silent before."

"I lived near the forest too," I say. "The edge of Burnaby, my father was the head carpenter for the area."

"Burnaby?" You're kidding?" He says. "What's your father's name, if you don't mind if I ask?"

"Cyder Langford."

"No way," he says, shaking his head.

"What?" I ask and suddenly he just looks at me, not saying a word. Something changes about his face and I swear that I could see the guilt in his eyes. He turns and rushes out of the kitchen without another glance in my direction.

I am left standing by myself, as confused as ever by the strange boy. For a second there it seemed like we were almost... bonding. Why did he leave? Did I offend him with what I say. I replay the conversation again in my mind; I replay the guilt in his eyes just before he ran away from me.

A few minutes later I still have no idea what I did to send him away. I glance up at the clock and see that it's been a half an hour since I first checked it and I decide to go back to my room for a couple hours until I'll be dragged out again to get ready for training.

I don't even bother turning on the light when I get back to my bedroom. I sit down on my bed and stare up at the canopy over my bed. I try to force Regan out of my mind, knowing that I am unlikely to find an explanation in the fabric patterns or anywhere else, but I can't brush him away.

I close my eyes for just a second and open them again several hours later to loud knocking on my door and a shrill, female voice screaming that I am going to be late. I sigh and stare up at the top of the canopy again, last night's dreams still not quite having left me. I promise myself that I'll find a way to talk to Regan before we leave the Capitol, whether he wants to or not.

* * *

**Aston Moroque, 15, District Six**

**Acereader55**

* * *

I stifle a yawn as Tatum and I exit the elevator. It's far too early for anyone to be awake, let alone for us to be expected to basically work out. I understand that time is of the essence and that we are supposed to be preparing for this big epic death fight, but I would much rather spend my last few days sleeping in instead of being reminded every time I look at another tribute that all but one of us are going to be dead in two weeks.

I never get a break from all of this craziness. It's like now that my name was pulled from some stupid random lottery I am supposed to be okay with being paraded around and trained to do things that would have been unthinkable in my normal life back in Six. Tatum seems to be adapting well to the change but I just can't seem to. It's not fair. I'm fifteen years old. I've gone to school for most of my life preparing for a future that I won't even be able to get a chance to create.

I look over at Tatum and can't help but wonder how she does it. How any of the other tributes do it for that matter. The Career tributes I can understand because, well, this is their future. They live their lives up until now knowing that they will be here eventually. The rest of us didn't have a damn clue. Twenty-four kids that could have done anything with the rest of their lives and it's being wasted because of some dumb mistakes that happened over a hundred years ago.

Maybe I should be taking this more seriously and preparing like I'm being told to do, but I just don't think I can bring myself to give myself hope like that. I'm already expecting that I am going to die in whatever arena they choose to throw us in. The one good thing about this is that there is nothing else they can do to break me. I've already shattered myself.

"Aston?" Tatum looks back at me from a few feet away. "Aren't you coming?"

"Of course," I say, flashing her a toothy grin. It was yesterday, or rather last night, that we decided to team up. I can't say I was expecting the conversation, especially after the whole situation from the train, but it was welcome. I feel better about trusting her for some reason since she comes from District Six. The other tributes feel so far away, but at least I can at least hope that Tatum comes from the same morals as I do.

I haven't let Tatum hear my thoughts about what is going to happen once we get in the arena. If there is even an ounce of hope still left in her then I don't want to be the one to take it away. Ever since we got into the Capitol it has been as if Tatum has become an entirely different person. I can't even look at Tatum and see the girl who was crying by the train car window. She's nothing like that weak girl.

Tatum and I walk over to join the other tributes. We're a bit early again today and as our mentors said earlier we won't be allowed to start until eight o'clock. It's seven fifty-seven right now, as the digital clock on the wall tells me, so we should be allowed to start in approximately three minutes. For now we wait in an awkward group with the other tributes in the middle of the training centre.

"What do you think we should focus on today," I ask, mostly just to fill the awkward quiet that surrounds us. I can just barely hear the other tributes murmuring amongst each other as we wait to be told we can begin.

"Weapons," she replies rather quickly. I must have let my surprise show because her smile dies down a bit and she continues. "I'd like to work on finding a weapon that will work for me. If that's alright."

"Sounds good to me." In all honesty I don't really care what we work on. Yesterday I spent most of the day wandering around and hanging out near the areas where other tributes were working. It's not really my style to show off what I can do, even if the amount I have to show off is pretty lacking. I'm about two hundred percent sure that if I had participated in any of the stations that I would have given something away, however.

"Awesome," she grins and turns away, ending the conversation.

With nothing else to do I find myself looking around at the other tributes. There are thirty of us this year, six more than in most years. Unfortunately the numbers were gained mostly in the Career districts. I noticed the split up last day, which was a bit disheartening I have to say. If somehow I make it past the first day this means that instead of one large Career group prowling the arena looking for me there will be two. If either the one large group or either of the two smaller groups found me I am certain it would mean death but I would have felt better only having to avoid one pack.

"Welcome, tributes, to your second day of training. You may begin at any time."

I turn and see that Tatum looks slightly startled by the voice that seems to have come out of nowhere. When she doesn't move first I extend my hand making her jump. "Shall we?"

Her smile returns but she makes no move to take my hand and after an awkward second I allow it to drop to my side.

"We shall."

* * *

**Hunter Mathot, 16, District Ten**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

They're all a bunch of idiots.

Every last one of them is an idiotic, lower class imperfection. I was hoping that by some chance I'd find someone to fight along side, but as of now there was no one anywhere near worthy enough to even speak to me.

"You're holding it wrong."

"Shut up," I spit as the trainer attempts to correct me. Even the Capitol people aren't of my standards, they're just as judgemental as the tributes are. I throw the spear in my hand at the target, but it flies past the dummy I was aiming for and skids across the ground.

I catch a smirk from the District Two girl as she throws her spear right beside me, only hers hits dead centre of the dummies chest. What a show off, I wouldn't mind meeting up with her in the arena, and then I can really show her whose superior.

I turn from the spear station, eyes scanning the room for something else to do before lunch, and then after, the Killzone. My eyes land on Corlis, sitting amongst her little group of girls, all desperately rubbing sticks together in attempt to start a fire, none of them coming up with any luck.

Corlis was so proud that she managed to sneak her way into an alliance. I remember last night she wouldn't shut up about it until I had to yell at her. I hope she realizes none of those idiots are going to save her. They're a bunch of untrained, desperate girls trying to do anything they can to make it out of this alive. It wouldn't surprise me if they turn on my District partner the first night, that is if she even makes it out of the bloodbath.

I consider going over and showing the girls how it's done, but something tells me I wouldn't be pa welcomed guest, considering the exchange me and the District Nine girl had at the parade.

My eyes continue to scan the room, until I come across a rather odd trio all taking up residence at the rope climbing station. The little girl from Seven, surrounded by the boy from Four and the red-headed girl from Two.

Being the most interesting thing I can find, I stroll over. I grab a rope when I arrive, in attempt to make it look like I'm actually here to train, but really I'm just trying to eaves drop on their conversation.

"If you would just leave me alone I would really appreciate it," the little girl says, a tone of anger creeping into your voice.

"Why don't you just tell us why you were listening to our conversation?"

"I wasn't aware there were any rules against it," she says, grabbing a rope and begging to climb up it.

She doesn't get very far though, because the District Two bitch grabs the rope she is climbing and repeatedly shakes it until she loses her grip and tumbles to the ground. I take this is as my cue to step in.

"I'm not sure that's allowed there pretty lady," I purr, stepping past the two careers and in front of the little one. "Why don't you monkeys run off and rejoin your heard, or whatever it is you call a group of you."

The girl looks like she's going to burst, and the boy looks as if he could kill me right now, but surprisingly they don't say another word as they walk off to rejoin their group. Though I do catch a few of the other monkeys looking my way as they whisper in each others ear. Looks like I just got their attention.

"Sorry," I turn to see the little girl still sitting on the ground, bright eyes looking up at me. I nod in response, before turning around and heading off in another direction. It's not long before I hear a pair of little footsteps coming up behind me.

"You didn't have to intervene you know, I could of handled those monkeys alone," I smile at the girls use of my term, though being from District Seven it wouldn't surprise me if she knew what a monkey was.

I don't reply, instead I pick up my speed, already getting fed up with the girl and her annoying habits.

"Look you big idiot, I've seen you glaring at all the other tributes, heck I even see you yell at your District partner a number of times, people aren't exactly your thing. So why on earth did you save me?"

I try to hide the smile that somehow makes it's way onto my face. This girl does have spunk, I'll give her that.

"It was a one time thing, deary, now run off."

"Nah I'm good, I think I'll hang with you for a bit."

"I think not," I say, turning once again to find another station. My eyes meet the sword station, and I decide to give it a go. When I arrive at the station, I pick a fairly heavy sword and begin hacking away at the nearest dummy.

A few moments later, I look to my right to see the crazy little girl, struggling to hold the exact same sword I'm using, sloppily stabbing at a dummy.

I just shake my head, continuing my attack on the dummy I now have pictured as that girl from Two.

Soon enough the girl gives up, throwing the sword down and stalking off to find a more suitable weapon for it. I laugh when I see her pick up a sling shot, but my smile disappears when I see her casually send her ammo into the head of a dummy nearly half way across the gym, visually startling the girl from Twelve, who had previously been hacking away at the thing with a sword of her own.

By the time I turn back, the young girl is halfway up the net wall, sling shot in hand. When she reaches the top, she hooks her small legs around a rope, before leaning back so she's upside down.

She takes aim with her sling shot, and completely takes the head off my dummy. She's unhooks her legs, uprights herself, and drops to the ground, smirking at me.

I'm sure my jaw must be on the floor. Where on earth could a fourteen year old girl from Seven learn that?

"Lavender," she says when she nears me, sticking out her hand.

"Hunter," I reply, taking the girls small hand in my own.

* * *

**Zaria Tullius, 18, District One**

**Acereader55**

* * *

"Let's sit over here!" Raleigh giggles and sets her gray tray down on the circular table that lies in front of me. She pulls out one of the chairs and sits herself down, using her now empty hands to smooth her pants down even though they are skin tight and don't need smoothing.

I obey her wishes and slide into a seat that is two away from Raleigh, not being able to sit directly next to her because her personality makes me want to drown myself in a puddle of acid.

Any blind person can see that she is putting on a heavy façade, and if she thinks she's fooling anyone other then Jasper, she is lying to herself. Whether she knows this or not, she continues to put on a fake persona and giggles her way through training, but at least she gets the job done I guess, no matter how annoying her way of doing the job is.

Glint pulls up a seat next to me, and nods in my direction. I flash a quick smile back and spoon in a mouthful of soup, the only food that they had provided us once again. I watch the other two members of our pack, Jasper and Deidre, pull up the two seats next to Raleigh and engage in conversation with her, though Raleigh clearly dominates the conversation by giggling and making flirtatious jokes with Jasper.

It's blatantly obvious that this pack is not as united as Raleigh would like us to appear to be. It is all about appearances for that girl, and she certainly would throw a petty fit if she knew that her appearances weren't holding up as she'd like them to.

"Does that girl ever shut her mouth?" Glint whispers to me. I crack a smile and have to hold in a laugh, because I know that he's thinking the same way that I am. "I know she's a ditzy blonde but gosh, does she have to pour it on that thick?"

"She doesn't even realize she's over compensating," I say to Glint. "Soon enough that one will get what's coming to her, whether it be from one of us, one of Arnette's pack, or an outer district one. I hope she gets whipped in the killzone today."

Ah, the killzone. Something every trainee is warned about and is prepared for. Everyone knows that this is the time to show the sponsors what you're really made of and what you would be capable of doing in the arena. I definitely want to do as well as I can and prove to these other people that I'm not some incompetent twig like they all make me out to be. I can do just as well as the heavy hitters in my alliance and the other career pack, they'll see.

"Zaria dear?" I hear Raleigh's idiotic, bubbly voice penetrate my thoughts and I tilt my head to face her. "Jasper, Deidre, and I were just talking about the other pack and who is the biggest threat and who can be written off. Who do you believe is the biggest threat?"

The question takes me slightly off guard, if I'm honest. I don't normally express my thoughts, nor does anyone usually ask for them. I feel like the answer she expects me to give is someone different than how I actually feel, and I don't want to give my hand away as to my inner thoughts, so instead I decide to play into her hand and tell her what she wants to hear.

"Arnette, definitely Arnette."

"That's exactly what Deidre and Jaspy said!" She giggles some more and throws her head back when she does so. What a bimbo. "She is a huge target, despite her stature and incompetent mind. I think she should be our main target when we go into the arena, what do you think?"

To be honest, I don't agree. Its obvious after observing them that they are all uncomfortable with Arnette as the leader and that pack is sure to explode at any given point, much like ours. Taking out Arnette would be a mistake. If we leave her alive, she'll continue to try and control them and it will only make the pack hate her even more, and therefore make an explosion imminent.

But, it's blatantly clear that Raleigh wants me to say Arnette, so I go along with her wishes once again so as to keep the peace between the alliance, and say what she wants me to say to her.

"Yes, I absolutely agree."

"Then it's good, everyone agrees." She flashes her pearly white smile, and after the smile is turned off a bell dings, signaling the end of the allocated lunch period that we have been provided. Raleigh immediately stands up and walks away from the table, throwing the remainder of her food away and swaying her hips over towards the training stations once again.

Not too long afterwards, her little puppies follow her away from the table and scurry to catch up with her, leaving Glint and I alone as we walk to throw away the remaining food.

"She is something else, eh?" Glint says and I nod.

She surely is something else, that's for sure. But sometimes, the one that is the most noticeable, or the most well-trained, or the leader doesn't necessarily give them the victory. Sometimes, it's the people in the background, the people that others don't see coming, the dark horse, that can claim the crown.

If only they knew the real dangers that this dark horse possessed.

* * *

**Braden Kellis, 18, District Two**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

"Are you going to try and win?"

"Of course," the lie slips of my tongue just as easy as they always have. Lying is something I've grown accustomed to. It's easier than telling the truth, for me, and the people I lie to. The truth can be a very hard thing for some to swallow, which can cause reactions I just don't feel like dealing with, so lying it is.

Winning the Killzone would be absolutely pointless, there's no prize, other than sponsors, and a huge target painted on your back for all the other tributes. The poor fool who wins this will be on everybody's radar, and probably won't survive the bloodbath.

I'll be aiming for a happy medium, well medium for a career. Top eight sounds about right; high enough to attract sponsors, but not good enough to cause that much attention to myself.

Arnette has been stressing the importance of the Killzone since the careers split. Apparently overall we need to do better than the other pack, so the sponsors will chose us over them. Which is going to be nearly impossible, considering that pack has all of District One, who have always been the Capitol's favourites. Proved even more by this stupid Quell twist.

"Look, here she comes. Guess it's time to get this thing started," Ebba notes as the rather petite Head Trainer steps forth to address the group of us.

Ebba is someone I've grown rather close to over the past few days, her being one of the only few careers in my pack that I can handle. Ebba never pushes, if I'm not feeling like talking, she's perfectly content training in comfortable silence, which is definitely not a trait Arnette has. I went at the swords with her this morning, and all she talked about were how horrid the other careers were. The split has definitely had the heaviest impact on Arnette, and she has made it her personal mission to destroy them.

I couldn't care less about the split, actually I prefer it. Ten careers working together was never going to work, and as long as they stay out of our way, I can only see positives of letting them take out a few of our bigger competitors while we sit back and relax. Of course, things may get a little intense when the big face off comes, but by then I'm hoping they'll have suffered a few losses.

30 tributes has made for a higher chance of outer-district threats, and I'm definitely not disappointed. District Three is unusually strong, as are the older kids from Seven, and the girls from Eight and Twelve.

"Attention Tributes, we're going to get started here. I won't get into the details, because I'm sure you're all heard how the Killzone works. You'll be given a suit, which contains many, many sensors. When a weapon comes in contact with you, the sensors will evaluate the data, and give you a shock signifying how injured you are. Once the sensors determine you have been fatally injured, they are programmed to drag your body to the nearest floor or wall, where you will be held in place until one of you makes the last kill."

She lingers on the word kill, glancing around at all of us to digest our reactions before continuing on.

"You may only use the weapon you take in with you, and you may not use your own body to fight. Any use of anything else will result in an automatic death for you in the Killzone, and I doubt the Gamemakers will like it much if you go breaking their rules, that is if they're not too busy fighting each other."

She awkwardly coughs after her last sentence, quickly looking around nervously as if she wasn't supposed to say that. Oh wonderful, the people in charge of our lives aren't getting along, I'm sure that'll just bring great things to the arena.

"Well we're screwed," Ebba whispers in my ear, and I can't help but chuckle as she perfectly voices my thoughts.

"Anyways, this year we will be changing it up a little bit. There are 30 entrances into the mock arena, meaning everyone will be going in at once, in order to ensure the results are the most accurate they can be. As soon as you walk through your door, you are encouraged to start the killing, and when everything is said and done, you will come out and be able to view your stats on the board behind me."

I look up to see a giant screen showcasing the numbers one through 30, an empty chart as of right now, but it'll fill up soon.

"Trainers will be around to fit you into your suit, and then you will come up to this table and select your weapon. And then a trainer will take you to your entrance where you will wait to commence. Good luck tributes, and don't lose sight of how important this is. A good Killzone placement is guaranteed to achieve you a few sponsors."

She finishes up her speech, dismissing the trainers to bring us our suits.

"Good luck Braden, let's show them District One idiots what they're up against." I nod in response. Perhaps Ebba's worst quality would be her arrogance. She's not as overly confident as some of the other careers are, but she has her moments where she definitely thinks she's better than others. Oh well, that's something I can handle, as long as she doesn't do anything stupid, but Ebba's not one to stir the pot, at least not on purpose.

A trainer approaches me with a plain black, skin-tight suit, and a small black device that attaches to my ear. He helps me step into it - it fitting right over my clothes, before instructing me to go wait in line to chose a weapon.

As I'm waiting, I'm sure to watch what people select as their weapon. Whatever weapon they chose now is the weapon their lost comfortable with, and the weapon that I should watch out for.

Eden unsurprisingly choses a spear, and Arnette picks some weird looking sword. But I'm shocked when the younger District Three girl choses some sort of knuckle duster. Not exactly the most practical weapon, but obviously she's confident with it. The District Twelve girl choses a short sword, and I'm left waiting on the little dark-skinned girl from Eleven. I expect her to grab a knife, or a slingshot, but I almost laugh when I see her tiny hands wrap around a crossbow. Mind you, it's a smaller version, but still, I can't picture that little girl shooting arrows around.

I grab a handful of knives, before following a trainer down to a single door. It's only a matter of a few minutes before a monotone voice announces that it's time, and I hear the familiar click of my door unlocking.

"Good luck," the trainer smiles, before opening my door and forcing me in.

* * *

**Regan Volke, 18, District Seven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I impatiently hit my axe against the door in front of me. It's been several minutes already since I've been standing here. I'm getting bored to say the absolute least, and this suit is more uncomfortable than anything I have ever had the displeasure of having to wear. I didn't even get my first choice at weapons, the trainer that was putting this stupid suit on didn't have a clue what she was doing. Anything that resembled the giant knife I've been training with was already gone by the time I got there.

I swing the axe in front of me, the part of it that would normally be sharp bouncing off the door harmlessly. I still don't understand how this child's game is supposed to help prepare us for the real arena but it sounds like it will be fun. All of the tributes so close together, bodies packed on the floor like the corpses they'll probably be a few days from now. It sounds like it could be entertaining.

"Sixty seconds."

The voice sounds oddly mechanical coming from a speaker somewhere around me. One minute until is silly game starts, it's about time. I don't know why they're waiting so long, it's not like I have to prepare myself or anything. Though if they were going to delay us so long it would have been nice to have the option of getting a snack beforehand.

I begin counting down the seconds in my head. By the time the thirty second mark comes and goes the area around me is almost completely dark. At fifteen seconds I notice a dark green light flickering on the side of my suit. At ten seconds my suit begins to vibrate slightly, probably activating or something. Finally when the timer ends I hear the door slide open.

The interior of the room is almost impossible to make out. The entire place is dark, with random circular lights flashing on and off in sync with the strips of coloured light that I guess symbolize tributes. I flip my axe over into my good hand and slide along the wall by my door, using one arm to try and stifle the brightness of the light.

Someone all but runs into me as I slide along, but I see them first. My axe is moving a second later, hitting somewhere around the tribute's neck if they were to be around my height. I must be right because whoever it is screams and is forced to the ground and the yellow light at her side disappears. I try to remember which district yellow is supposed to be but decide it doesn't matter.

I continue along the wall unnoticed, but a lot of the others aren't quite so lucky. I hear tributes hitting the wall and floor all around me. Other than the odd groan or startled scream, the room is silent. I bash my foot off something that is way too hard to be a person and duck behind whatever it is. Beside me a young female yells out as someone, possibly me, steps on her hand.

This is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. The darkness makes it impossible to see anything, and the flashing lights are disorienting. I have no idea how far away I am from the door I entered through, and even less of an idea how many tributes are left. I count at least fifteen strips of light but I know I'm probably not the only one smart enough to try and cover it up. I groan in frustration, this is not near as fun as it should be.

I hear someone approaching me just before I stand up and I hold my breath. I am almost certain that they can't see me, considering that the only thing I can see about them is the glowing pink light. Another flash of light comes and I am able to kind of see that it is one of the older females, but I can't remember any of the tributes enough to confidently say their district even in normal light.

Most importantly, I see that her eyes are not looking anywhere near me. I decide to make a break for it just in case she might decide to look down here. Rather than risk standing, I crawl over the girl on the floor. I curse under my breath as the girl calls out and I feel a solid hit on my arm. I forget for a second to cover my light as my suit freezes in the place where I was struck.

I cover it up a second later and stay where I am, hoping that she will think I am dead and walk away. My plan must work because no more thrashes come. A few seconds later I get back on my feet, using my good arm and weapon to continue to cover the strip of light as my hurt arm remains frozen. This is shit, now I only have one arm to work with.

I decide to take myself back to the wall. There is not a lot of movement around me and I can only count six light strips left. Never mind five, I can't help but smirk to myself as another light goes quickly towards the floor and then goes out completely. This game is going to be over pretty quickly by the looks of things, but that's just as well. I don't think I want to stay in this room for too much longer. I hate feeling vulnerable like this.

I slink along the walls, almost tripping over a boy and scrambling to put my hand over his mouth before he gives me away. As more and more lights fall I get a better feeling about my chances. If this game is any determination of how well I will do in the real arena, I'd say I've all but won already.

* * *

**Eira Gray, 17, District Eight**

**Acereader55**

* * *

The shock was more terrifying than the actual blade hitting me.

I try to move my head but it won't budge from its position on the wall, forever hanging limp until this "competition" is complete. It's even more annoying that I cannot see anything in between these intervals of flashing light.

At the beginning, when we were ushered inside, I thought that this would be relatively simply- hide the best that I could and try not to be caught until the very end. It was no where near that simple.

When I stepped foot into the pitch black room that is called the killzone, I nearly tripped over my own feet. I couldn't even find my hand in front of my face, that's how dark it was. Thankfully, light flashes came on at certain intervals and it helped me see, but not much longer than that someone found me and stabbed me from behind, "killing" me instantly, before I even had a chance to do anything more than worry about how I was going to be able to see.

Before I knew it, I was being dragged to the wall to my left and I got slammed into it, and when I tried to move, my limbs ceased to do what I had tried to command them to do. It was honestly quite scary, though I knew this was better than the alternative, which was actually being dead.

As I stayed almost attached to the wall, I could see figures running through the dark, though it was still hard to see faces even when the lights flickered on. However, when the lights did flash, so did some of the stripes on people's suits, and luckily for me I glanced at the board to see which district had which light on their suits.

As the lights flashed on, so did a colored light in front of me and I instantly recognized it as someone from my district.

"Armada?" I whispered. The lights flickered back off before I could see the figures face, but I continued to call out. "Armada, is that you?" I can hear the figure moving towards me across the floor, and before they can see me they run right into me, causing pain to flare up in my chest.

"Eira, why are you on the wall?" I guess the figure was Armada, and he clearly didn't really understand how this killzone worked, otherwise he would have understood that I was metaphorically killed and am now bound to this wall.

"I was killed before I could see it coming," I say. "Not that you can see much in front of you, let alone see something that's coming from behind you." I giggle a little bit and so does he. A little bit of humor can make any situation a little bit lighter. "Now go, I don't want you getting killed right in front of me." I smile even though he cannot see it, and I can hear his feet scamper away on the ground.

Suddenly, I hear a loud groan and Armada suddenly scream out as something slams onto the wall next to me. The lights quickly flicker on, and I can see a pink light flame up on the side of a girl's suit before the girl quickly darts away and out of sight behind a crate. So the girl from One got Armada eh? Neither of the girls from One seemed like a killer, but I guess under these circumstances anyone is willing to do whatever it takes to win.

"Are you okay Armada?" I whisper. I'm not sure if he can hear me because I'm not entirely sure how close he is to me, but I'm happy when I hear his voice respond to my question.

"I'm fine," he answers. "It just felt like an electric shock and then I suddenly went numb." He laughs a little before continuing. "It was kind of fun. It's not everyday we can play in something like this! Even though the idea behind it is morbid…"

"Yeah… I guess we didn't do so well though." I awkwardly laugh to ease the topic away from actually thinking about the real games, and Armada laughs with me.

"Did we really expect to do well in this anyways though?" I'm not sure whether the question is meant to be rhetorical or answered, but I stay silent nonetheless. Better to not answer that honestly and get the kid's hopes down.

After a while of hanging out on the wall with Armada and seeing numerous tributes pass by us as the lights flicker on and off, finally we are suddenly released from the wall and Armada and I fall to the floor with a thud.

"Guess the game is over."

Trainers flood through the doors as the lights turn on, and suddenly I can see that the whole killzone is actually rather small. There are boxes everywhere that are probably the reason why many tributes groaned and tripped, and the walls are closer together than I anticipated.

"Hold still while I unzip you from your killzone suit," a redheaded trainer instructs me. "Once I am done, you can head out the nearest door and check the main board to see your placing."

The trainer is fiddling with the back of my suit when suddenly it becomes a lot lighter and she instructs me to slip out of it, which I gratefully and eagerly do. Armada is also out of his suit and he rushes over to me, linking arms with me and smiling up at me, ushering me towards the nearest exit.

"Let's go see how everyone did!" He says.

We exit through the door and right away there is a gigantic board that has everyone's name, district, color, and kill count. I'm surprised to see that Avrie has managed to gain such a high placing, but I'm happy that at least someone in our alliance has gotten a high placing that can attract sponsors.

For now though, I'm contempt to be in the background cast as the mother figure. I may have been stabbed in the back in the killzone, but as many children know, mothers have eyes in the back of their head.

And I am no different.

* * *

**Raleigh Torrance, 18, District One**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

Before I had even said a word, they had all pegged me as just your average ditzy girl from One.

I knew it would be easy, but they've really left me with no work at all, Jasper especially. He thinks I'm his loyal little follower who will do anything he wants, but that's exactly what I want him to think. Jasper is going to propel me forward, but after he runs his usefulness, he'll be gone, just like the others.

Breaking up the careers was not something I had planned ahead, but Arnette's attitude had lead me to the idea, and now my work load is even less. The two groups are going to go head to head, there's no doubt about that. But they'll all be too busy focusing on the bigger threats to notice little dumb Raleigh sneaking off into the background.

I didn't want to do that well in the Killzone, but my 19th placement embarrasses me more than a little. Of course Dierdre only did a few better than me, but still if that little bitch from Eight hadn't come up behind me I would have done a bit better.

I look over to catch the eye of said red-headed bitch, and see her smirking at me as she nods to the screen. I scan the list, looking for her hideous name and finally find it, her placement making my jaw drop.

Avrie got fifth? Fifth! How? Who killed her? How many kills did she have? I continue studying the chart and notice that she only picked up two kills, myself and that little boy from Seven, before being taken out by Braden.

"Being taken out by an outer District scum, One, really I thought you were better than that," I clench my fists as I hear Arnette snicker behind me, but on the inside I'm smiling. Let them see me as weak, let them underestimate me, it'll just cause more of a shock later when I outlast them all.

I find Arnette's name on the list and have to fight back the urge to turn around and call her out for being a hypocrite. She came seventh, but beside her name is the name of her killer, which just so happen to be none other than the weird guy from seven, Regan Volke.

The snickering behind me continues as I continue to study the stats board. Arnette and her little gang of idiots like to pretend their a close knit group of friends, but any old ditzy girl from One can see the cracks. And I do.

Braden and Ebba are obviously close, but they don't socialize much with the others. Atlas doesn't talk much to anyone, and Eden sticks to herself for the most part. None of them look comfortable under Arnette's control, and I begin to wonder why any of them chose her side to begin with. Probably in fear of being with the useless bitch from One, and the 100 pound twerp from Four. We're not exactly the most intimidating group, but we'll get the job done.

I almost jump as Jasper suddenly appears beside me, his eyes too studying the board.

"I don't know what happened, I was walking along and all of the sudden that girl jumped me!" I raise my voice in attempt to make myself sound like a child as I explain myself to Jasper. Honestly I couldn't careless what he thinks, but I must keep up appearances.

Jasper doesn't reply other than a simple grin as his eyes continues to scan the board.

There's not much else to note if I'm honest, Eden won, which is no surprise, the girls a beast with that spear. Regan came second, which is something I didn't see coming but he's always had a weird vibe about him, like he's more than a little excited to get into the arena. And Zaria came third. Good, she'll be seen as the strongest of our little pack, and be targeted first. Which is fine by me, there's always been something a little unnerving about my quiet District partner, but apparently she's quite good with those knives of hers.

"We should head back, there's nothing to gain by staying here," Jasper suggests, but he begins to walk towards the elevator before I even have the chance to reply, expecting me to follow. I do of course, being the good little puppy I am.

We walk past a number of people, each showing a number of different reactions to their stats. The District Nine girl is crying, which isn't surprising considering she was the first one eliminated, though her friend from Ten is awkwardly rubbing her back in attempt to comfort her. Though Corlis didn't do that much better, coming in at 21st, slain by her own District partner.

Speaking of the arrogant prick, he stands not that far off, smirking as he takes in his place of eighth. The little girl he's been oddly hanging around with from Seven stands beside him, sulking at her place.

I push past the pair, still following Jasper as he steps into the nearest elevator and presses the number one.

"Arnette will never let us live it down that she got higher than both of us, and someone from her alliance won the whole thing."

"It doesn't matter, it's not the real Games," I assure Jasper, but he doesn't look convinced.

"Have you decided who you want to target in the bloodbath?" Jasper seems to ponder the thought before coming to a decision and shaking his dead.

"She's strong because of her numbers, I feel it would be beneficial if we took out her weakest members. Rattle her a little bit."

I look over to Jasper to see he's starring at me with that suspicious looks he always gives me whenever I say something half intelligent. I curse myself before throwing on my fake smile and looking at him for approval.

"And who do you suggest that is?" he says after returning to his normal, neutral expression.

"I don't know, who do you think?" I purr, leaning back against the side of the elevator.

"We should pay attention to training scores, but right now I'd say it'd be Atlas and Ebba. Atlas is just crazy, and Ebba doesn't seem to be taking this seriously."

"Whatever you say Jaspy," he let's out a low chuckle before shaking his head and getting out of the elevator.

"Zaria! You did wonderful!" I cheer as soon I see the dark-haired girl sat on the couch. She looks up at me and smiles slightly before looking down and rolling her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking.

What a bitch, I'd like to rip her apart right here.

My smile never falters.

* * *

**Song: Move Along by The All-American Rejects.**

* * *

**A/N: Hey all, it's Olive again. Back with a *late* chapter. We had a little bit of an issue of Fin almost dying with the flu or whatever the hell he has, but we are still going strong other than that and hopefully will be on time next week...**

**Nothing much else to say honestly aha, just that we hope you enjoyed the chapter. The Kill-Zone placements are up on the blog/ will be up within an hour of this chapter posting so check those out! Also we are now officially halfway through the Capitol! Yeah that is pretty exciting I think so at least.**

**Leave us a review and let us know how we are doing, if you have the time to do so. It would mean the world to hear from all of you.**

**Some questions to get those review wheels rolling;**

_**What do you think of these tributes?**_

_**What do you think of the new alliances that were formed?**_

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**So that is pretty much it, up next week will be Training Day Three. Stay tuned, I guess?**


	9. Time

**400 Lux by Lorde**

**_We're never done with killing time_**  
**_Can I kill it with you?_**

* * *

Eden Ares, 18, District Two

District11-Olive

* * *

"Eden, wake up! You wouldn't want to be late on this very important day now would you?" I roll my eyes as the frantic knocking comes to my door, not that I needed the wake up call. I've been getting up early for my entire life and by now my body is just trained to do it automatically.

I glance at the clock on my bedside table and see that it's just now eight o'clock. I count two hours since I first woke up, but I'm still lying in bed with my face unwashed and my hair unbrushed. I should be ready to leave already, my escort is right that today is a very important day. We have another half day of training and then our private sessions where our skill set will be put to the test before we are launched into the arena two days from now.

I sigh and push the covers off of me, my bare feet touching the frigid floor seconds later. I head to the bathroom first to begin my morning routine, all the while thinking about nothing other than all that has happened during training already.

For the first time in probably the history of the Hunger Games, the Careers alliance has split up before the gong has even went off. I still find it stupid to think about the fact that one small disagreement was enough to break the group. I have come to terms with the fact that if it had not happened during training that it would have come very soon as soon as we hit the arena. There was nothing that was going to prevent the large group from breaking apart, there were simply too many of us for the Pack to work this year.

I close my eyes and rub a spot of soap across my face. No matter my intentions of coming here and staying entirely detached from all the other tributes, I have found myself unable to get over Dierdre. I thought that we had at the very least found some common ground, at most had begun to form a friendship, but she was the only non-District One tribute to join the other side.

Loyalty is something that was instilled in me from the very beginning. My father, Abraham Ares, a former trainee and then Victor was always very traditional in his views and those transferred without fail into me from the moment I was born. He won his Hunger Games with honour and dignity, never straying from the values that the Ares family is built upon. It has always been my biggest ambition to follow his footsteps to realize my own victory.

I would have been loyal to her if she would have proven that she was worth that, but she isn't. She left her district and someone who thought they could trust her behind when she crossed that line towards the other Careers. I owe her no loyalty even though I know that deep down I would have been willing to give it to her whether she asked or not.

The more I think about Dierdre, the more I have to ask myself whether it is the soap that is stinging my eyes or something even more painful.

I dry my face on the hand towel that hangs on a hook by the shower and rearrange my sleep-destroyed hair with a few quick brush strokes. This is the only time I will ever allow myself to cry, when I am completely and totally alone. Even as a child I was never the sensitive type, well not the outwardly sensitive type. No matter how tough someone is, as an eight year old it will always hurt when you're told you're no good. Especially by someone you love dearly.

I use a few tissues to wipe the area under my eyes with cool water, a trick I learned early as a young girl that would hide any evidence of tears from your face. As a well-know family where Victors are expected to be simply born, it is always necessary to know how to protect every part of yourself- especially the emotional parts. I throw the tissues into the garbage bin and smile at myself in the mirror as I head back into my bedroom.

I pull the fresh training uniform on grab the boots that have been cleaned and placed by the set of drawers. I grab the white pair of socks out of the shoes and pull them on, then lace up the boots. I've already thought through every minute and every word of my presentation for the Gamemakers, but I run through it all as I pull each lace tightly and secure it with a bow.

I remind myself to ask my other alliance members about what they will be showing, to ensure that I do not have to rearrange my plan to stand out if more than one of them plans to do something similar to me. I have the morning to practice the three skills I have chosen to demonstrate, then lunch to discuss any last minute plans that the alliance needs to get prepared as this is going to be the last time we'll all be together until we meet in the arena.

All business all day. No mention of the other Careers at all, exactly how it should be. It was Jasper's idea for the group to separate and therefore everyone that joined him is officially considered to be rogue. And it's a fact that rogue Careers are treated just as every other tribute is treated. As prey, sitting ducks just waiting to be shot.

* * *

Lavender Vargas, 14, District Seven

Call Me Fin

* * *

Lately, my mood has been all over the place.

I've spent most of my time here hating the Capitol, but I'm starting to realize that's just a waste of my time. It's not my escort, or trainers, or any of the idiots I've came in contact withs fault that I'm here. They're just merely doing what they've been told to do, and what they've been taught is right. The whole damn system is screwed, and as much as I resent the fact, I can't change that, and trying is just a waste of my energy.

Over the past few days, I've also realized one other very important thing; I want to win. Well actually I want to go home, but winning seems to be the only possible way to get that.

As it turns out, I'm not as willing to throw my life away as I might have thought. I'm not brave enough to do anything half rebellious if it costs me my life, even if it could spark some sort of rebellion.

Over the last few days, I've really gotten to know myself more than I thought I would. I've learned to realize just how selfish I am. As the Games near, I find myself more and more willing to sacrifice the lives of my fellow tributes for my own. I guess from the moment I was reaped I knew if it came down to it I'd take another life, but I never thought I'd be this willing.

I just want to go home.

"Lavender, are you alright dear?"

I can't muster up any other response than a simple nod. It's a wonder my escort even still talks to me, after the way I treated her over the past few days. I should apologize, but thats never really been my style.

Being reaped has had a greater emotional affect on me then I ever imagined it would. I don't know how to put it into words, one second I have hope, and the next I'm sobbing in bed because there's no way I'm not going to die.

I'm lost. Lost for words, with no hope, I'm just lost, and I have no idea where to go.

"Your ally did pretty well in the Killzone yesterday," I look up to see Phoebe staring at me, a look on her face I can't identify.

"He's strong," I simply say.

"So whys he hanging around someone like you?" My fists instinctively clench, and my head whips up to glare at the slutty girl. But I bite my tongue. I've learned how to deal with Phoebe over the last few days, if you don't reply, eventually she'll get bored and move onto someone else. Eventually.

"Of course he only beat me by a few people. That reminds me Lavender, why is it you died so early? I mean even useless Shay over here made top 12."

This time I can't bite my tongue. "Useless Shay also beat you, if I recall?"

"Now kids, can't we just appreciate the fact that District Seven did unusually well this year?" Our escort tries to intervene, but Phoebe already has that look in her eyes. That look that says I better watch out, but I'm not scared of some big boob'd bimbo.

"Shay hid the whole time, while I was out actually securing kills."

"You got one kill Phoebe, which Shay evens out by staying alive one person longer than you." Regan spits, grinning from his side of the table.

We may not get along, or generally like each other. But if there's one thing myself, Shay, and Regan can bond over is our extreme dislike for Phoebe.

"Shay is also younger than you," Regan continues, coming to Shay's defence. Which I find slightly weird, but I chose not to mull over it since I can barley contain my laughter over Phoebe's seething face.

"When I win, we'll see whose laughing," Phoebe screams, jamming her knife into the table which causes a gasp from our escort.

Without another word, Phoebe storms off towards the elevator and disappears down to training.

"Thank you," Shay quietly says after she is gone, though Regan doesn't acknowledge it.

The silence soon falls once again over the table, and the feeling of sadness slowly starts to creep back into my body. Is this what depression is? I have no idea, I've never experienced this before. But I know my mood changing so fast cannot be healthy. I just need to find away to keep those dark thoughts of my mind. I need a way to distract myself, all the time.

I guess this is why a lot of victors drink eh?

Hunter is my distraction when I'm with him, but I can't be with him all the time. First of all tributes aren't allowed to go to other floors in the evenings, secondly spending 24 hours a day with Hunter would drive me literally insane.

I can only handle hearing him talk about how he is the perfect person so many hours of the day before I'd like to rip out his vocal cords. He's a good ally; he's strong, and won't turn on me too early, but he's a hard pill to swallow. I guess I never thought about that come the Games, when we will be literally living with each other in whatever hell they throw our way.

I'm just hoping all that death will tone him down a little.

"I hope everyone enjoyed their meal, but it is now time for you all to head down and get in all your last minute training! Go along now," our escort's words rip me from my thoughts, as she stands up from the table, quickly followed by Shay and Regan.

The escort heads back to her bedroom, while Regan and Shay head towards the elevators.

"Coming?" Shay asks as he turns his head back after only a few steps.

I hurriedly nod, excited for the distraction being with Hunter, and training will bring me.

* * *

Corlis Kembrey, 17, District Ten

Acereader55

* * *

"Corlis, come help me sort out the rest of these berries dear." Matilda's voice fills my open ears and I shuffle myself closer to her and farther away from Maelle, whom is sorting her own pile of berries at the moment. "I'm much farther behind than Maelle and you could definitely use some more practice with determining what's good to eat and what isn't."

Over the past day I've definitely taken notice that Matilda has been coming closer and closer to smothering me with her personality and keeping me away from Maelle, which I'm unsure about why she's doing this. If we joined the already made alliance of Maelle and Savvy, shouldn't we both interact with them so they won't turn on us sooner rather than later?

Despite my suspicions, I would never voice them. I don't want to upset my closest ally and definitely don't want to get kicked out of the alliance, because I know I definitely need a larger alliance to stay alive. If I anger any single one of these people and it causes me to be kicked out, I may as well jump off my plate once the countdown begins because I'll have no shot on my own.

"How's everything going over there, girls?" Savvy asks. I turn my head towards her and smile, and she returns the gesture. Honestly, Savvy is probably my favorite out of the entire group, even though I haven't gotten the opportunity to talk to her that much because of Matilda constantly wanting me to be with her. Savvy just seems like a genuine person and like someone that wouldn't stab me in the back, and hopefully I can pull away from Matilda long enough so that I can talk to her and form a bond with her.

"We're doing good Savvy, thanks for asking," Matilda responds and she flashes a pearly white smile that Savvy returns, once again. It's interesting that Matilda acts so nice to Savvy and I, yet at any chance that she gets she seems to take us away from Maelle and not want Maelle to be included.

"How are you doing Maelle?" I turn my attention over to the fourth member of our alliance and make sure that she's still doing good and, more importantly, make sure she doesn't feel like an outcast or unwanted, because I need all the help I can get in these Games. "Do you need any help over there?"

I can immediately feel the glare from Matilda's eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, and I start to worry if I've made a mistake by asking Maelle how she's doing and if she needs any help. But as soon as I see the smile on her face at someone actually talking to her within this alliance, she beams at me and I know I've made the morally right choice.

"I'm good, thank you for asking Corlis," she responds. "It means a lot to be recognized." The last part of her sentence I don't believe was meant to be heard by me, but nonetheless I hear it and instantly realize that aligning myself with these people was the best decision that I've made since being reaped for the Games.

In some ways, Maelle reminds me of myself. When we first made this alliance, she seemed so self assured and seemed like she had the most confidence out of everyone within this alliance, but once Matilda started smothering her out of the conversations, her drive and ambition just seemed to die within her. Now, she's become this timid and shy character, and it reminds me of myself throughout my entire life.

"Here, let me help you with the last of your berries," I slide over to where Maelle is sitting and help her sort the last of her berries, which she seems to greatly appreciate as she shifts her sitting position and allows me to help her sort out the last of the berries. I can feel Matilda growing angrier by the second, but at this point I honestly don't care. I feel the need to connect with Maelle and be close with her because of how similar we are.

I shift the berries that are poisonous to one side and allow Maelle to take the ones that aren't poisonous to the other side and give her a little high five, proud that we were able to accomplish the sorting in a quick amount of time.

When I move my head back over to where Savvy and Matilda were, I notice Matilda giving me one of the hardest glares I've ever received in my entire life. I've received quite a few glares in my time for the sides that I choose, but this one is one of the worst I've ever gotten. It's a mixture of hate, hurt, and anger all in one stare and it makes me shiver when she doesn't let her gaze up after a few seconds of her staring at me.

I may have made a closer bond with Maelle in going to help her with the berries when Matilda didn't want me to, but I definitely severed my tight bond with Matilda by doing this. One choice could potentially change the entire course of my life. The question is, did I make the right choice in which person inside the alliance should I side with?

Only time will tell me.

* * *

Toby Alvarez, 13, District Three

Call Me Fin

* * *

"Faster Toby, or it's never going to spark!" I ignore Winifred's chants from beside me, instead choosing to focus on the two sticks in front of me. Apparently, says the trainer, rubbing two sticks together to create fire is not a myth, and can in fact start a fire. But judging by my process so far, I'm beginning to thing he was just pulling my leg.

Eventually, Winnie grows tired of watching me sit and rub sticks together, so she wanders off a few stations down. I watch as she plays with some sort of ball of wires, with little to no luck in even untangling it, let alone making something of it. Even a few stations down though, I see her glancing my way every few minutes as if she's making sure I'm still there.

She's protective over me, which I appreciate it, but it's weird. I'm the older one, and she's the girl. The man is supposed to look after the women, or so my father says, but in our relationship the roles are almost switched. Winnie's stronger, and better equipped to handle this situation, so naturally she's taken the leader role in our little alliance.

Honestly my father would have a fit if he could see me now, being paraded around by a 12 year old girl that stands a better shot in winning this thing than me. He always wanted me to be more of a man, whatever that is, but I guess that's just not me.

I'm slightly startled as another tribute sits down beside me, and I almost drop the sticks I had been rubbing together. I look up at the girl, slightly flustered, and she just shakes her head and smirks at me.

I recognize the girl as the lone tribute from Twelve, but I can't remember her name or anything else about her.

The silence is awkward, and I feel the need to say something, but starting conversations has never been my thing.

It doesn't take the girl long to get a fire started, and she smirks over at me triumphantly when her flames begin to cackle. I feel my cheeks begin to heat up from embarrassment, but I smile back at her all the same.

"Good job," I mumble, beginning to furiously rub my own sticks together.

"You really don't have any chance in this thing," she notes, a hint of mockery in her voice as she nods down at my unlit fire.

I probably should be angered, but I understand what she's doing. I've seen her around here, not talking to anyone and sending those glares at anyone who nears her. She wants to be intimidating so no one will come near her in the arena, but she doesn't scare me. That much.

"Realistically, no. But I'll be sure to give it my best shot, and Winnie's pretty good with that crossbow of hers."

"Oh right, your little ally over there. Winnie you say? I'm sure she's right deadly with that baby weapon."

I look up at the girl, ready to see a smirk, or some sort of smug facial expression. But instead I see the girl starring at me with nothing more than a blank expression, and narrowed eyes. What is her game? She knows I'm intimated by her, so why continue? Why verbally attack me?

"What are you trying to do Twelve?" I ask curiously, setting down my sticks and turning to face her completely.

"Well, Eight," she says with a little too much venom in her voice. "I was trying to toughen you up a little bit, you know so you're ready to fight for your life in a few days. But I see now you and your little twerp of an ally are completely hopeless. I look forward to seeing both of your faces in the sky night one."

I go to reply, but am quickly cut off. "Excuse me? Twerp? Dead day one? Don't you worry little miss princess, I'll hunt you down and have one of my arrows between your eyes before you even see my face."

Oh dear, here we go. Things are about to get a lot more interesting.

"Winnie, it's fine, Twelve was just showing me how to start a fire. What you heard was a joke," I say, hoping the girl will go along with it.

"No I wasn't, and it wasn't a joke. You don't scare me little girl, you're a joke and I'll be glad to see you put out of your misery."

Winnie's face turns a deep red as she clenches her fists and prepares to strike. I take this is as my cue to step in. I quickly stand up, grab Winnie by the arm and begin to pull her away from the horrid girl.

"Toby! Stop! Let go! She was mean to you I oughta show her what we can do!" Winnie screams and struggles as I continue to drag her away.

Surprisingly, my grip is strong enough to drag her away without her getting free. Maybe I am just if not stronger than Winnie, and I bet my father would be proud of that. He'd say it's the manly thing to do to step between two women trying to fight, but he'd also tell me I shouldn't mind watching them fight either, because apparently that's some sort of weird male fantasy. I'll never understand his idea of the perfect man, but I guess that should be the least of my worries now.

"Calm down," I say, pulling Winnie in front of me and holding her still so she has to stare into my eyes. Her eyes narrow again, and I curse myself for not listening to my mother.

Never tell a girl to calm down Toby, it'll only make it worse. I can't remember how many times my mother told me that, but look at me rebelling and not listening.

"I'll kill her Toby, I really will." I guess I should have listened to my mother.

"Let's just go shoot some arrows, and by that I mean let me go watch you shoot some arrows," I say with a smirk, and reluctantly Winnie mimics it.

"Okay Toby, but you should learn to use a weapon too. I can't protect you when I'm gone."

Her words hit me like a brick wall, and I stare at her with a saddened look. I don't want Winnie to be gone, I want her to stay. The whole reason I'm with her is so I'm not alone, but what's going to happen if she dies first? What would I even do?

"I have my blow darts," I say sheepishly. They're a good weapon, effective without any mess. But Winnie says they're a stupid weapon and that I should learn to use a real weapon, like her crossbow.

"If you kill someone with those darts in the arena, I'll be extremely impressed."

She laughs as she turns to go towards her crossbow, and I force a chuckle in response. Kill someone? Could I really do it? When it came down to it probably not, but it's best Winnie doesn't know that.

I need her to stay around, and not just because she offers me a bit of protection. I guess I just really like the crazy girl.

And the best part is, I think she really likes me.

* * *

Xylia Devrine, 18, District Twelve

Acereader55

* * *

Honestly, this day hasn't been half bad.

Sure, the argument with the littles wasn't the best thing I could've done with my last day of training, but at least it brought a little entertainment to my day. It made it a little less dull, and here, dull is basically all there is. And I did do something right in that argument. I told them the truth. Yeah, the truth stung, especially for the Eleven girl, but at least I told them what they needed to hear.

It's all a bunch of bull shit, really. This training instills false confidence in these people who have almost no shot at getting out of these Games alive. The Gamemakers, the mentors, the Capitol people, they all instill confidence into the tributes that is unwarranted. Most of these people can hardly kill a fly, yet they act as if they can rule the world after three days of mediocre training. The only ones who should have confidence are the Careers and the older tributes. The ones who have a shot. The ones who don't need a confidence booster to give them the drive to win. The ones who actually have a deserving life to go back to at hone.

In a way, I'm glad that I told the littles off. They needed to know that they had no shot so that they wouldn't be wasting their time with their useless training, but the small one from Eleven insisted that they go off and learn some more about weapons, which I thought was idiotic. What can three days teach you that common sense can't?

I drop the gauze that I was wrapping around a dummy's hand and turn myself around so that I'm facing the rest of the training area. I can see all different kinds of alliances forming and I can't help but let the smirk that's growing on my face grow even wider. Is everyone here and idiot other than myself?

Forming alliances only makes it harder on you when the Games come around and death surrounds you. I certainly wouldn't want to watch someone I formed a bond with die right next to me, would you? Some people find my strategy idiotic and think that because I'm a loner I have no shot, but what they don't know is that by being a loner, I have nothing to weigh me down.

I only have to look out for me. I only have to divvy up the supplies for one person. I only have to find a space small enough to fit one person. That's the ultimate beauty of being a loner. I don't have to take care of some incompetent idiot, I only have to take care of myself. That shouldn't be too hard considering I've been supporting myself and my family for more than two years now, how tough can a week or so be?

"Are you finished with that gauze?" I can't quite place the voice, but when I turn around I see that it belongs to that of the District Seven Female, the one with the rather large boobs. "I could really use the practice."

"Be my guest, big tits." I hand the gauze over to her and stand up from the station, brushing my pants off and flipping my hair over my shoulder. The Seven girl elegantly sits down on the floor and begins to wrap the tan colored gauze around the dummy's half sliced wrist. "Not that this'll do you much good in the end anyways."

"Excuse you?"

That caught her attention.

"I said, it won't do you much good in the anyways, learning about all that gauze nonsense and such."

"And why do you say that?" She counters. This ones got a spark in her, that's for sure.

"Because, in the end, you're just going to end up another corpse in the ground while I could sauntering back to my lovely live in Twelve," I say, with a hint of arrogance in my voice that was purposely meant to be there.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Seven says and begins to stand up.

"What are you going to do, suffocate me with your large boobs?" I chuckle, but I quickly realize I hit a nerve with Seven and her eyes narrow into thin little slits. Before I can even bring my hands up to my face, the girl jumps up on top of me and smothers my face with her boobs, latching her feet around my waist and clawing at my hair with her nails.

"You wanted them, you got them!" She screeches as I pull her hair to try and get her off of me, but she doesn't loosen her grip. Thankfully, Peacekeepers come rushing over to where we are and yank her off of my body, releasing the immense pain I was feeling from her pulling my hair and clawing at my body.

"You'll get more of where that's coming from bitch!" She screams, as Peacekeepers drag her away from me and to one corner of the room where the Head Trainer is awaiting, clearly unsatisfied with the girl for breaking one of the principle rules of training-no fighting with the other tributes.

I brush myself off and quickly walk away from where the incident happened, as if nothing had ever taken place there, but others were not so quick to forget. I can feel and see all of the other tribute's eyes on me, watching me as I walk from station to station. Clearly, they all see what my words can do and now they want to see what my body can do. Now, everyone knows who I am. Everyone will now be watching the girl who got into a fight with the slut.

So much for a low-key game.

* * *

Tatum Albright, 16, District Six

District11-Olive

* * *

"You're better at this than I am," I tell Aston as he walks over to me. A human-shaped dummy lays on the mat, surrounded on all sides by ropes to mark off the area. It's taken us most of today and last day, but I think we've both finally found weapons that suit us.

Aston swings the club with one hand and winks at me. "I'm getting better, but you know you would be a lot better if you were actually training instead of watching me."

I do my best to hide my blush and roll my eyes at him. We both have taken over the side-by-side training areas for a good chunk of the past two days, but he's not wrong that I have found it difficult to concentrate on myself. It has taken some getting used to, not only simply having an ally but also having Aston as an ally. By the time we had arrived in the Capitol I had all but written him off as a possibility, but somewhere in the past few days that has changed.

It's not that I didn't expect to have an ally. I think it was more that it didn't seem like I would be able to have any sort of attachment to them, but I have figured out that in some backwards way I actually do care about Aston. I was wrong to judge him on his first impression, he didn't agree with that stupid Capitol woman. He was just kind of quiet, still is around anyone that we don't know.

I like to think that maybe if we had met back in District Six we might have been friends. Aston said we would have at least, and I'm too polite to disagree. Truth is, though, that there is not chance in hell we would have even met. From what I have gathered about Aston, he hung around the school crowd, the ones that did their homework and stayed late to help teachers. I can't say that I did the same.

Back home I was always with the wrong people. I can say that now as I look back, but if I had been left back in District Six I don't think I would have changed a single thing about my life. My family was wealthy, and I am the prime example of what rich kids do in District Six when they get bored.

Just thinking about my life from this sort of outside perspective makes me believe that my name was called at the Reaping for a reason. Maybe as some sort of punishment for all the things I have managed to screw up in my lifetime, or maybe as a way of getting me out before I did something even worse. At the very least, I won't be returning to District Six the same person I was. I'll either be going back dead or going back remembering all the things I wished on the train up here that I could have done for my family.

Even though it should sound stupid that Aston and I are still thinking about victory for ourselves, I know that we both are. The Quarter Quell twist has ensured that we will be going up against almost twice the usual amount of Career tributes, but I think we're both holding onto the possibility that they will be fighting more amongst each other than with us. At least I'm holding onto that hope for myself. It's helped a great deal to keep me at least somewhat sane.

"Gathering intelligence, General Tatum?" He laughs and I realize that I had been staring at the Career tributes who are training three areas over from us. One of them has pointed me out, and I look away quickly hoping that they don't decide to come over here.

"I was trying to see how they hold this thing," I lie, pointing down at the heavy machete in my hand. I found it helpful to have a weapon that was both heavy and sharp, well at least it made me feel even remotely dangerous. Maybe if I get in the middle of a fight, it will do most of the work just to swing the thing around. At first I thought long range might be better for me, well until I realized how terrible my aim was. Short range is definitely a lot easier to control.

"Looks like you're not going to get much help that way," he says, giving me a sideways look as another dummy enters the area in front of him. "They're practicing with throwing knives, not swords."

I bite my lip, my face heating up again. "It's a machete, not a sword."

"You think I know the difference? All I care is you use that big sharp thing to make sure we don't get our heads chopped off."

"Graphic," I say flatly, feeling the chill run down my spine as that image flashes across my mind.

"Sorry," he mumbles, but I can tell he isn't paying much attention to what I am saying. His attention span and concentration is probably the longest I have ever seen in my life. We've been here since training began and I haven't seen his eyes wander even once. Mine, on the other hand, can't seem to stay in one place for more than a couple minutes.

A bell rings and Aston drops his club, jumping in surprise. When he and I both turn to see where the sound is coming from, I hear a loud oof and turn back to see Aston on the floor and rubbing his side. I have to hold back my laughter, seeing the dummy standing over him with another club in its mechanical hand.

"Lunch time," Vidia, the Head Trainer, calls into the speaker. "Please leave any and all supplies at the stations and file into the cafeteria in an orderly fashion."

* * *

Ebba Farlay, 18, District Four

Call Me Fin

* * *

"So, we beat the other caresses in the Killzone, and now it's time to show them up on the training scores. I need everyone to do their best!"

I have only just sat down with my tray when Arnette begins to speak, glancing between the group of us. Stressing me out is not an easy task, but Arnette seems to have the skill mastered.

It's become something of an obsession for her; us beating the other career pack. Even through she seems to be the only one who really cares about it. I couldn't care less about them. They stay out of our way, and all we do is ridicule them. I understand that when it comes down to it, there's going to be a big career pack versus career pack fight, but why not work along side each other peacefully until that happens? I guess that's the reason we split up; because we can't work together peacefully.

"I don't believe you have to worry about that Arnette, we're clearly superior to them," I say, smiling at the girl, but really I don't mean it. I've learned how to deal with Arnette over the past few days, and the best way is to just feed her what she wants.

No one else says a word, which is unsurprising. We're not a very commutable group. Usually the conversations involve mostly Arnette talking, with me answering her enough to show her I'm somewhat listening.

The others don't really voice their opinions much. Atlas goes with whatever Arnette says, following her around like a little puppy. Braden never really has an opinion, always choosing to to stick with what the group wants, and Eden pretty much sticks to herself.

We're a weird bunch, but we work well together. Definitely better than that other group, honestly Arnette has nothing to worry about. Raleigh will destroy them from the inside out, there's no doubt about that. We can just sit back and relax, and these Games will be a piece of cake, just how I like it.

I look over at Braden, whose busy digging into the soup they've served us now for three days in a row. He catches my eye, and smiles slightly, but there's something in his eyes I haven't seen before. Perhaps it's nerves, for the upcoming training scores, but I'm not sure what he has to be nervous about.

I've seen him throw knives many times over the past few days, and he's deadly to say the least. But Braden clearly isn't one to share his secrets. Over the past few days, he's probably learned every detail of my life, but I cant remember any specific thing about his life before the Games. He's a mystery to me, and I guess that's part of what draws me to him? He's cute, like a child in a sense. He doesn't need protecting, but I almost feel the need to, and he doesn't even do anything.

Braden is compelling, plain and simple. He's who I want to go to the end with, and who I want to fight along side the most. I couldn't care less about Arnette or her little puppy, and Eden is just kind of here, but Braden holds my loyalty, and I hope I hold his.

"Everything okay?" I whisper, nudging him in the side.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. Arnette has been talking for three minutes straight and you haven't said a word. It's starting to get pathetic," he whispers back with a small chuckle, and I can't help but grin.

"I don't want to interrupt her," I say, though to be honest I didn't even realize she was talking. Zoning her out is something we've all had to learn to do over the past few days.

Braden turns to respond, but his eyes lock on something behind me, and I can't help but turn around.

Jasper comes strutting over, Raleigh in tow as she always is. I look behind them to see Zaria, Glint and Diredre sat at a table a few tables over, eyes all glued to us.

"What brings you over here?" Arnette spits as soon as they approach.

Of course, Jasper takes the lead, though he looks rather uncomfortable with five eyes all on him.

"We've come to request a truce, for the bloodbath at least. Our alliance sees it only fit that we stay out of each others way during it, and take out as many of the outer-district scum as possible."

"And why should we? It's obvious you're just scared that you'll all be bloodbaths."

"I'm sure it might seem that way, but in fact that is not the case. If you don't see how this truce will benefit not only us, but yourselves, well that's not my problem."

"I don't see how it benefits me at all, so my answers is no."

"Fair enough," Jasper says, nodding his head and beginning to walk away.

Raleigh doesn't budge though, her eyes glued to Arnette, a look of pure disgust on her face.

"Let's the Games begin then," she whispers, before turning on her heel and following Jasper back to their table.

"I fail to see the flaws in that idea?" Eden questions as soon as their gone, and Arnette quickly narrows her eyes at the girl. Eden doesn't back down, as per usual.

"You trust them? They're just trying to get our guard down."

"They'd stick to the deal, their honourable people, Arnette. I find it funny how you call Dierdre their weakest link, but I've seen her with that bow of hers. If she gets a hold of that during the bloodbath, we're all goners. Let alone the others."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure she never makes it to that bow then, won't we?"

Eden doesn't respond, other than the shake of her head. Tension is not good, especially when we just clarified that our little battle between the career packs is going to happen sooner, as opposed to later.

The other group will have no problems picking us off if we can't work together. That's the one thing we have over them. We can't break now, not when we're so close to the Games.

I look to Braden for help, but he looks as lost as I am.

It's only a few seconds later when Braden is looking at me with a tight grin on his face.

"Normally I'm all for humour, but this isn't exactly a fun situation," I whisper to him, but his grin just widens.

"Are you getting that thrill you've been so desperately craving yet?"

Braden chuckles again, and I elbow him in the ribs, causing him to scrunch his face in pain.

That thrill won't come until the Games, but unless I do something, I can't see me making it past the bloodbath.

We were supposed to be the cohesive career pack, the one that worked well together. But Jasper has brought us grumbling down with just a few words - words I'm sure came from Raleigh.

I'm starting to get real sick of that bitch.

* * *

**Song: 400 Lux by Lorde**

* * *

**Hey! It's Fin, and I'm back! So exams and sickness (Mostly me and Ace) got in the way these past few weeks, which resulted in this late update.. but we're back and ready to get back on schedule!**

**So that concludes our training days, which means sessions and scores are up next, and then interviews, and then the launch chapter. Which means only three more chapters until the Games! We're almost there young ones, and then finally the blood will start to be spilt!**

**I'm falling asleep as I write this so I think that's it for now, other than a few questions of course if you wouldn't mind answering?**

**Favorite POV from this chapter? (If you didn't love Winnie and Toby you're wrong...)**

**We've seen every tribute by now, so any thoughts on who the real contenders are?**

* * *

**ALSO if you're interested there is a favourites poll posted on Olive's profile, go take a look and vote! **  
**See you all next week!**


	10. Flight

**I'm a Ruin by Marina and the Diamonds**

_A flower in a gun, a bird in flight_  
_It isn't fair and it isn't right._

* * *

**Arnette Lyrin, 18, District Two**

**Acereader55**

* * *

'Tributes, remain seated here," one of the Peacekeepers barks at us as I sit myself down in between Braden and Eden. "Do not leave this room and try to stay seated in one place if at all possible. The Gamemakers will call you in one by one when they are ready for you. Perform your best. Anything else of note will be explained to you by the Gamemakers once you are inside."

The big, hulky Peacekeeper leaves the room and the doors slide shut immediately behind him. Quickly after that, I whistle, blowing my breathe with my fingers in my mouth, turning almost everyone's heads in the room.

"My pack, over here."

My alliance members, or as I like to call them, _victims_, scurry over to where Braden, Eden, and I are sitting and plop themselves down across from us with serious looks on their faces. Good, they needed to be serious if they want a good score from the Gamemakers.

"I'm laying it out simple," I begin. "You need an 8 or above to remain in the pack. Anything less, you're out. We need the strongest of the strong to beat the slut's pack in the arena, and I don't want any weakling slowing us down."

Braden and Eden nod in agreement, and Atlas continues to stare at me silently, but doesn't object. The only one who doesn't seem to be in complete agreement is Ebba, who looks to be slightly paler than usual and is fidgeting with her fingers.

"But don't we need all of us to stick together if we are to have the numbers to go against the other pack?" She pipes up, which admittedly shocks me. Who knew the girl had the guts to go against what I had to say to the pack?

"It doesn't matter the numbers so long as we have the strongest people in the pack," I say towards Ebba. "Even if the whore had more idiots in her pack, it would be of no use if we have the strongest people in the arena going after them. We kill them with strength, not numbers." Ebba quickly nods her head and bows her head in shame for going against what I had to say, but I will say it made me admire the girl slightly. Albeit it was annoying to have someone question my decision in front of the whole pack, but it shows the girl's got guts. I like when someone has guts.

"Raleigh Torrance."

A robotic voice calls for the slut and she quickly and quietly gets up from her seat and sashays her way over to where the metallic doors are that lead into the Gamemakers chambers.

"Good luck hoebag!" I call over to her as the doors slide open.

"Thanks, but save the luck for yourself girly, I'm sure you'll need it." She flashes one of her signature pearly white smiles over her shoulder at me before skipping into the chamber and the doors slide shut behind her.

I can't wait to drive an axe into her face.

"Don't let her get to you." I'm surprised when I hear Eden's voice speak to me. It's very quiet and it doesn't appear that anyone else heard what she said to me because they're all to engrossed in their thoughts or talking to one another.

"Thanks but I can take care of myself," I retort back, rather harshly even though Eden did nothing to insult me.

"Suit yourself," Eden says, before going back to picking at her nails. "Letting her get to you only makes it harder on yourself."

I glance back over to where Eden is sitting and stare at her inquisitively. Who does she think she is to pretend that she knows what's going on in my head? She doesn't know shit. Raleigh is the driving force behind my motive to win, other than wanting to live of course. I want to shove my win does Raleigh's throat, along with a knife or two.

"Zaria Tullius."

The silent girl from One gets up from her seat and brushes off the non-existent dust from her pants before walking over to the metallic doors quickly and quietly. Out of all of the other people in her pack, she scares me the most. You don't need the biggest muscles to be a threat after all, I'm a testament to that. It wouldn't surprise me if the bitch stabbed the entire other pack in the back, literally.

After she walks into the chamber, I turn back around to observe the rest of the tributes along with my pack. Some of the tributes in alliances are huddled together, some holding hands like the littles from Three and Eleven, and some whispering silent words of encouragement to each other like the District Eight alliance of three along with the younger boy from Seven. They're definitely losing someone in the bloodbath.

"Jasper Graves."

Ebba and Atlas are having what looks to be a private conversation, and Braden seems to be trying to join in on it only for the conversation to die and them all to end up just staring at each other. Eden is being Eden, silently sitting off to the side with her eyes closed, breathing controlled and not saying a word. What's up with her, cat got her tongue?

Some of the other tributes are getting fidgety, getting up and walking around despite the Peacekeeper's instructions to try and stay in one place if at all possible. Idiots, don't they know getting on the Capitol's bad side is a _bad_ thing for them? Whatever, it only makes my pathway to victory easier in the long run.

"Glint Grayson."

The last of the District One scum goes into the Gamemakers chambers leaving the girl from Four all by herself, her allies all having done their session before she can. Not so good of a choice to go with that pack now, is it?

Admittedly, it wasn't a good idea for her to go with them in the first place. They're all from One, and clearly will have an allegiance to each other over her since she's the outsider of the alliance, being from Four and all. She should've joined up with us while she had the chance so she was at least with some of her people, and of course with the winning pack. I _really_ hope they turn on her first just so she can realize just how idiotic it was of her to join a pack full of people from the same district.

"Arnette Lyrin."

And with that, it's my turn. My fellow pack members wish my luck as I confidently walk over to the metallic doors that lead into the room I've been waiting to go into my whole life. This is it. This is my chance to show them what their victor can really do. What a lifetime of training can do. What I can do.

And there's no way in hell I'm letting myself down.

* * *

**Jasper Graves, 18, District One**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

Raleigh has already been called in, which has practically erased the permanent tension that encompasses our group whenever she is around.

She's your average dumb blonde from our District, which doesn't generally sit well with myself and the others. She talks to much, and makes any silence awkward, and the majority of our conversations involve her talking and everyone else listening, with the occasional comment from Glint or myself.

At first, I really thought Raleigh was hiding something. There was no way she could be as preppy and dimwitted as she appeared to be, but we're now on the third and final day of training, and I have yet to see any cracks. She holds her demeanour perfectly, so perfectly I'm beginning to think it's not an appearance at all. No one is that good of an actor. But then why was she chosen? I've seen her fight, she's nothing special. And sure she's the hottest tribute here, but she's immature, annoying, and just plain idiotic.

She has no redeeming qualities, other than she appears to genuinely care about her alliance members. Even if we are nothing but cold to her.

Raleigh Torrance is not acting. Raleigh Torrance is in plain, an idiot. And I chose her as my one true ally. I chose her to take with me to the end.

Did I screw up? Or did I chose the best possible option? I can beat her, no doubt. But will she even last that long? It's highly unlikely, heck even Dierdre could beat her in a one on one.

Zaria is called in, and after a quick head nod she disappears in to the gym, quickly followed by Raleigh exiting, a bright grin on her face.

"That was fun," she simply says, taking her seat back beside me. I'm nervous to say the least, and don't have the least bit of energy to pretend to be nice to her right now. In response I sarcastically smile, not saying a word.

"They looked impressed, I wouldn't be surprised if I get the top score," Raleigh whispers, and I immediately look up. Her grin is gone, and instead she's staring at the ground, no expression on her face. Her voice lacks the enthusiastic conviction it usually holds, and she doesn't bother smiling.

Perhaps this is her crack? Or perhaps the Games being only two days is starting to get to her, just as it is me.

I've spent my whole life striving to be good enough to volunteer, and I can't screw it up now. Or else all those days spent training, instead of forming relationships with people will be for nothing. Not that it's much of a loss. Kids my age were always to immature for my liking, and the majority of my trainers were too pompous for me to handle.

Brent was the only one I could stand; the only one who really took an interest in me, and the only who really acted like he cared about me. Of course that was probably all for show, but it still means something to me.

Felix on the other hand was a happy medium. He was older than me, and slightly more mature. And he had the drive to do something with his life, even after volunteering didn't pan out. He was a peacekeeper, someone who kept the District in line, and ensured justice. Something I can't help but respect.

Thinking of them sends a small feeling of longing throughout my body, but I know this is what I was meant to do. I'm meant to enter the Games, and I'm meant to win. That's my purpose in life, and that's what I plan to do.

"Jasper Graves," I hear my name called, and I immediately get up, and walk straight through to the Gym, completely forgetting to say goodbye to Raleigh or any of the others.

I pass Zaria as I enter, her usual blank expression on her face revealing nothing about how her session went.

I don't bother introducing myself, or waiting for the go ahead. We all know what I'm here to do, so I get right to it.

I grab my rapier of it's shelf where I left it, and immediately begin hacking at dummy after dummy. I cut, I stab, and I parry, never loosing my drive until I've torn apart the allotted dummies I was given, leaving a pile of white cloth in my wake.

Without catching my breath, I call upon a trainer to step forward. A smaller girl takes her place, axe in hand and a small grin on her face.

I don't underestimate her, I know just how deadly anybody can be. So I let her attack first, and I quickly side step her charge, swinging my leg out to trip her.

She goes down with a thud, and I'm immediately standing over her, rapier resting on the back of her neck, ready to kill. Of course after a few second I step back, but if this were the Games everyone in the room knows she'd be dead.

"Is that all Jasper?" I let out a small chuckle, before walking over to the nearest station, decapitating a dummy I had previously left limbless on my walk.

The station I instantly recognize as the fire starting station. I gather a handful of supplies, along with a flint, and within a matter of minutes I have the flame reaching well over my waist.

The rules are clear; you have fifteen minutes to impress the Gamemakers, and I know most careers don't spend half that time in here. I on the other hand am not an idiot, and I know the importance of versatility.

I'm all for following tradition, but this is one career tradition I don't agree with.

I continue to add to the pile until the flame is so large a trainer comes over with some sort of device that instantly extinguishes my flame. I smile in thanks to the trainer, though I was planning on leaving it burning.

Heck, I should have started burning the dummies. That would have been impressive, but oh well.

Deciding that would be enough, I simply walk out. Not biding goodbye, nor even looking in the Gamemakers general direction. They could have not been there the whole time, and I wouldn't have noticed.

Though I'm sure they noticed me. After all Raleigh made sure that everyone knew it was me who separated the careers. The Capitol loves me, I'm the one who gave them two of their precious packs. Which means the Games will be even bloodier, and I'm sure they're all already itching for the pack versus pack battle.

The Capitol loves me for it, but it was Raleigh's idea. She could have been the popular one, the one everybody loves. But no, she's the least popular career, the one no one cares about. The forgotten one.

_Oh shit!_

* * *

**Gideon Challene, 16, District Five**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I can hardly hear Aluma as she whispers about how nervous she is about our sessions being so soon. It is hard to concentrate on anything except keeping my own body in check. The shaking and sharp head pains have gotten worse over the past days. It was hardly noticeable until the first night of training, a dull pounding in my head that I attributed to a nervous headache. I can't set it aside quite so easily anymore.

The worst part about the whole thing is the Peacekeepers guarding the entrance to the training centre. They remind me so much of Soraye when he was on duty, the stoic body and expressionless face. Too many times over the past couple days I have barely resisted the urge to run up and hug one of them, cry into the soothing white of their uniform and beg him for more. Just enough to make the pain go away, I would promise him knowing that that amount was growing by the day.

I would have denied the title any other day of my life, but sitting here and being able to concentrate on nothing but keeping myself in check has a sort of maximizing effect. I am never one to be dramatic, it is simply not in my genetic make up to be so, but I know exactly what these episodes are. Cravings that only Soraye's store of morphling can satisfy.

I wish for the hundredth time that I hadn't used all of what I had on the train. The helplessness I felt when I was reaped made the usual pain I numbed seem like nothing. I wish that Soraye had visited me. Mostly just because his presence makes me feel more secure, but also because he might have given me more. Just enough to last through these days in the Capitol, I'm sure that they would have never allowed me to bring any with me into the arena.

"Are you alright?"

I turn to her and muster up the best smile that I think I will be able to pull off. "Little nervous, why do you ask?"

"You're hands are shaking," she says a-matter-of-factly, pointing down. I look down to where she is pointing and see that not only is what she is saying true, but also that she is pointing at one of my track marks.

I pull down the sleeves of my shirt so that they cover most of my hand as well as my arm. "Like I said, just a bit nervous."

"You could ask the mentors," she says nervously, her voice dropping just enough to be noticeable. "They could probably give you something for that."

I don't say anything but I am nearly positive that she saw the flash in my eyes when she mentioned it. She's given me an idea. Not asking one of the mentors, they might not understand. It's not that I haven't already checked their arms for marks like mine, because I did that as soon as the opportunity arose. Unfortunately I saw nothing but clear skin on one and a couple of long, thin slice marks on the other.

No, I'm not going to be able to go through the mentors to get what I need. But I have a better plan anyways. I think back to the first time I saw Soraye using morphling. I was fourteen and had never seen the stuff before, it was too expensive for my family to own. He told me it was for pain, physical pain. He and I used it for emotional pain, but the official use is as a numbing agent for physical wounds.

I'm willing to take the gamble that if I hurt myself here, before the arena, that I would be given some.

"Gideon Challene, District Five."

I stand and begin to walk over to the entrance, a new plan for my private session brewing in my mind. I have to figure out a way to hurt myself that will be enough to put me on medical morphling without hurting my chances in the arena. I step inside the training centre and look around me. My eyes graze over racks of weapons that would be easy to 'misuse' but would likely be detrimental to my chances. The other side presents plants and games that wouldn't be much use to me.

Then I see it, sitting perfectly in front of me as if it were waiting just for me. The climbing wall. My steps get faster as I approach it, the shaking and pain in my head suddenly gone at the thought of finally getting what I need. I am almost unable to keep the smile off of my face.

I don't even wait for the Gamemakers to tell me to begin. I start climbing the wall as soon as I reach it. I have never been much of a climber, so my progress is slow going, and I know that I am probably not impressing anyone. I don't care though, that doesn't matter to me. All that matters right now is getting about halfway up this wall and then making my fall look like an accident.

I look down and see that I am about eight feet off the ground by now. I climb up a couple more steps, adding another foot to my height, before I pause. For a moment I catch myself, realizing what I am about to do- drop myself nine feet to possibly get a dose of about half of what I am used to. In that moment I have a brief thought of whether or not it is worth it. Then I bring another foot up and allow myself to slip.

I hit the ground hard, a lot harder than I anticipated, and the air is knocked right out of me. Somewhere in the background I can hear someone screaming for a medic and a few seconds later I am lifted into the air and then set down on a white table. The movement makes my arm feel like it is being sawed off and I scream.

In front of me, a face appears to shine a small light into each of my eyes. He pats down my body, all the while every ounce of me calls out in protest. Then it comes, the welcome pain of a needle in my shoulder. I don't think I do much to hide the relief on my face and I don't care.

* * *

**Aluma Rye, 16, District Five**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

Me nor Gideon say a word, other than a few awkward exchanges here and there. I haven't been this nervous since I was reaped, not even when the whole Capitol was staring at me on the tribute parade. Not when the careers were all watching me as I attempted to learn to fight. Not even when Gideon finally worked up the courage to ask me for an alliance.

I need this score. So far, I haven't stood out at all. Neither of us have. We're the forgotten pair from Five that pale in comparison to the career, or the standout tributes like the red-head from Eight, or the boy from Ten.

We have done nothing remarkable, but now is the time. Now is the time to surprise them, make them think twice about writing us off. The least we need is an average score, the best is a standout.

Right now, we have no sponsors. There's thirty tributes, I can't blame the Capitol for not wanting to sponsor the boring girl who doesn't talk, and the asian boy with the forgettable face.

I want to standout. I want to be intimidating. I want to win. But right now, my chances are next to nothing. I'm a bloodbath, or so the Capitol thinks.

Neither of us did well in the Killzone, but how could we when we couldn't even see in two feet in front of us. I think that is the stupidest thing in the world. The Games aren't about luck, or walking around in complete darkness stabbing anything that comes near you. The Games are about strategy, about picking your fights, and staying out of the ones that aren't.

Me nor Gideon rely on our brute strength to get us anywhere in these Games, we're both relying on our mental game to take us to the end. And that could be a problem.

What if he's smarter than me? What if he turns on me before I get the chance? I've regretted joining this alliance since the very second I agreed to it. I'm pretty sure I'd do better on my own; I wouldn't have to share supplies, or worry about anyone else exposing me. I could rely on myself, and I know I can do this.

Gideon is nothing but a wild card in my Game, and I'm really not one for relying on chance. He's a good guy, but he also may be my shot at standing out.

If I can't get a good score, what other choice do I have? Tributes who turn on their allies are always remembered, especially if it happens to be their District partner. I'll be hated if I ever get back to District Five, but at least I got back.

I'll finally be a threat, and I'll finally have a chance in these Games.

Is this what these Games have done to me? Turned me into a person so willing to kill another? I won't lie, I kind of like it. I've always been the quiet, insecure girl who no one took seriously. I've always been content with that, but I've also never known what it's like to be in the spotlight.

Perhaps I'll like it more than I like being the quiet little girl.

My name being called shakes me from my thoughts, and I clumsily stand up, receiving a good luck from Gideon as I pass him.

I push through the doors, and into the gym, and I immediately freeze up. I had a plan, but it's gone. I can't remember a single thing I was going to do, and every single Gamemaker eye is now on me.

I stumble over to the weapons rack, deciding that's gotta be my best bet. I pick up a rather long knife, and turn to see a new set of dummies set up.

I sloppily strike at the nearest one, barely grazing it's abdomen.

I try again, this time kicking out at the stomach as I drag the blade along the dummies neck, leaving a small cut in it's path.

What the heck did they do, makes these stupid dummies invincible?

I resort to the simplest thing I was taught, spinning the blade in my hand and stabbing the dummy in it's neck. Surprisingly I feel the blade sink into the fake flesh, and a small smile creeps onto my face.

I attempt to pull the blade out, but find it stuck inside the dummies neck. I awkwardly let go, and stick my foot behind the dummies leg, pushing forward so it topples to the ground.

I immediately pounce back up, and race over to the plant identification test, whipping through the test I had done at least a hundred time over the past few days.

I mess up a few times, and I instantly know it. But still I manage a decent score, my name still at the top of the records list on the machine. I quickly scan through the list, and notice half the careers didn't even attempt to complete the test. And the ones who did scored near the bottom of the list.

I turn away from the machine, and freeze again, not sure what else I'm supposed to do. My eyes flicker from station to station, until I land on the rope climbing station.

I race over, sloppily climbing until I've reached the halfway point. I wish I could show them that I could make it to the top, but I don't even think monkeys could do that.

Sliding back down, I realize something. I'm not impressing them. I've done nothing special-nothing to make them see me as anything more than a simple bloodbath.

I haven't shown them I'm a threat.

Accepting my fate, I turn and head towards the door, only one thought racing though my head.

I have to kill Gideon.

* * *

**Phoebe Ryder, 16, District Seven**

**Acereader55**

* * *

"Aston Moroque."

The District Six boy, who had been sitting alone after his alliance member had been called into her session, gets up from his seat alone and walks slowly over to the chamber's doors, clearly very nervous and anxious about his session that he's going into.

I, for one, am not nervous at all and am simply excited for this session to begin. I have something very unique planned for them indeed, and it will be truly memorable. Especially for the male Gamemakers that I know need their daily dosage of Phoebe Ryder.

Looking around the room, I realize that if I really try hard, I can actually envision myself winning these Games if the Career pack wasn't in the picture. Most of the other people here seem relatively easy to beat, and I have no doubt that in a skills competition I could crush ninety-five percent of the people in this room.

If only the Careers didn't exist.

"Phoebe Ryder."

The robotic voice calls my beautiful name and I jump up from my seat, walking at a relatively fast pace over to the chambers doors where they slide open for me and I glide through, anxiously awaiting to see what the room will look like when it isn't filled to the brim with trainers and tributes.

I'm rather overwhelmed when I walk into the big, empty training center and have to contain myself from whispering something idiotic like "wow". The training center looks nothing like it did when it was filled with the other tributes and trainers. The stations are neatly put into certain corners of the room and nothing has been damaged or tampered with. They must have really cleaned this place up good after every training session because it looks like not a soul has even touched anything.

"Miss Ryder, please begin your session."

The Gamemakers are looking down upon me with wine glasses in one hand and a pen in the other, no doubt for taking notes when they see something noteworthy. I see three people in particular have no wine glasses in hand, they are simply sitting there with a pad and a pen in hand, waiting for me to begin. They each wear a different colored uniform from the other Gamemakers and are intently watching me, waiting for me to begin with baited breath. Must be the trio of Head Gamemakers.

"First let me begin with cutting off this ridiculous outfit, it's much too cramped for my liking," I say and grab a knife from one of the stations nearby and begin to cut the fabric off of my body. I am partially telling the truth. This fabric is tight and will only restrict me as we move along. But they also need to see one of my greatest assets: my body.

I take the blade of the smaller knife and cut through the thin fabric that was covering my body. I make sure to take away most of what is covering me but leaving some fabric on me to cover the important parts of my body while leaving very little up the imagination.

"Now that that's out of the way, let's begin with the important stuff, shall we?"

I run over to the fire making station and grab tinder and smaller sticks to set up my base and make sure I have a strong one before getting ready to light it. I grab sticks together and begin to rub them, slowly at first and then more rapidly. Soon enough, I have smoke going and tend to the flame, giving it oxygen and making sure it grows into a proper flame, big enough for the Gamemakers to see who good and quickly I could make a fire.

Next, I grab an axe from one of the racks of weapons on the side of the training center, and run back over to the flame that I had created on my own. I bring the blade of the axe over the fire and make sure that the metal is white hot before I remove it from the fire and scurry over to where some dummies have been laid out.

I begin to swing the red hot axe blade at the dummies and watch as red cotton falls out of the dummies as well as hearing the searing noises that are coming from them as the white hot metal touches the fabric of the dummies. Once I have slashed through several of the dummies I quickly walk over to the pool in the training center and drop the axe in it, letting it cool off in the water.

"Time is up Phoebe," a Gamemaker says. "Thank you."

I get up from my crouched position on the floor near the pool and walk to the center of the room and bow for the Gamemakers, remembering what the mentors said to do when we were finished.

As I'm walking out of the training center I wonder if I really did enough to show them that I can win. Did I really show them the best of what I can do; the best of who I am?

Only time will tell if what I did was enough.

* * *

**Glint Grayson, 18, District One**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"It's on!" I shout and the other three hurry into the screening room, followed by the mentors and escort. Unlike the others, I couldn't stand the thought of eating before knowing how my session went. I mean, I'd like to believe that it went as well as it did in my mind but it'll be nice to have a second opinion.

Just as they asked, I didn't bother calling them in until all of the formalities were done and over with. The only one seeming even partially interested in the banter of the Capitolites is Zaria, but she was happy to take the time to herself in her room while everyone ate and I watched.

"Scores are given on the basis of many things, and are carefully calculated by our beloved Gamemakers after each tribute has had a chance to show off what they have learned in training." I have to agree that the broadcasters overdo it a lot of the time with the exclamations, but I still don't want to miss any of it. After all, this is all for us isn't it? The least I can do is listen in.

"Without any further delay, I will begin with the unveiling of the scores beginning with District One," the man begins, a cheeky smile spreading even wider across his lips. Suddenly the screen is taken over with a picture of Raleigh, in all her blonde-haired and dazzling-smiled elegance. "To start the night off, we have Miss Raleigh Torrance with a score of seven."

Beside me, Raleigh straightens and I see the vague impression of a smile cross her lips before it disappears. When Jasper looks over at her, she shrugs. Strange.

"Next up we have Glint Grayson, also from District One with a score of nine."

I am temporarily taken back, and then the biggest smile of my life plasters itself to my lips. A nine? The best score so far! Well there have only been two scores so far, but still. It's got to be one of the highest scores of the bunch. I'm sure of it.

"And following suit we have Zaria Tullius of District One also with a score of nine."

I look over at Zaria and give her a thumbs up and she smiles in return. Just as I thought, Zaria is certainly one of the bigger threats, and I am happy to at least temporarily have her on my side.

"Finally to end off District One we have Jasper Graves with an impressive score of eight."

I look over at Jasper but see no change in his facial expression. Beside him, Raleigh smiles and gives a little clap to which Jasper responds with a solemn nod.

"Starting off District Two strong we have Miss Eden Ares with a score of ten."

I swallow hard, considering the girl I met briefly in training. She seems to me a lot like Zaria, rather quiet and to herself. Though I saw her hanging around a lot with Dierdre, which promptly stopped after she joined our alliance. Truth is, I know very little about the girl and that is quite unsettling at this point.

"Another impressive tribute, we have Braden Kellis also of District Two with a score of nine."

That makes two of the opposing pack with strong scores, out of having only seen two. I can feel the tension in the room as everyone's eyes are now glued to the screen, if they weren't already before. No one says a word as the broadcaster continues.

"Finally to finish off District Two we have Arnette Lyrin with the highest score thus far, an eleven."

If tension was high before, I have no idea how to describe it now. It is almost unheard of for tributes to score more than a ten. The other Career leader must have really shown the Gamemakers something that made her stand out. The center of the tense vibes is easily found at Raleigh and Jasper. I can understand why, they're the ones behind the splitting. It's hard not to think that that may have been a bad idea.

"Let's start up District Three with Maelle Thurske, who has been awarded a six."

"And right behind her, we have Zeno King who also scored a six."

They are average scores for non-careers, and I feel little threats coming from either of them. The girl I hardly remember, and the boy I believe I saw hanging around the survival stations for a good amount of time. I can't imagine him putting up much of a fight.

"Also for District Three we have Savvy McCreevy with a score of five, and Toby Alvarez with a score of three."

Even more pathetic than their older district partners, but expected considering their younger ages. I don't see either of them, especially not the boy, making it too far past the first day.

"Moving on to District Four we have Ebba Farley and Atlas Majors both with a score of eight."

Compared to their other allies, the two of them fall short of striking fear into any of us except maybe Raleigh who is the only one with a score lower than theirs. I don't expect to see much trouble coming from either of them.

"And finishing up District Four I present Miss Dierdre Lewell with a score of seven."

Instantly I feel embarrassed for Raleigh, to be considered on the same level as the rather small Career tribute. Truth be told, Dierdre is very skilled with her weapon of choice, but nothing can quit make up for the disadvantage she will face in a fist fight.

"Now from District Five we have Aluma Rye with a score of five and Gideon Challene with a score of three."

I can't say I am surprised by the girl's score, but I would have expected maybe a six or so for the boy. He seems to be just above useless, which is pretty high praise for an outer district tribute. In this case I don't think I am going to let the score dictate whether or not he is a threat.

"District Six, we have Tatum Albright with a score of five and Aston Moroque with a score of four."

Average, and average. Not that I can really expect anything more from either of them. I'm glad, though, because it means that I will have more time to spend looking at the real threats. No need to waste my time on tributes that are going to do no more to stand in my way of winning than to dirty my weapon.

* * *

**Avrie L'reaux, 17, District Eight**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

The careers are a joke.

Arnette, the red-headed twig whose got a smaller IQ than our escort has scored the highest of them all. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty sure one on one I could take the bitch, and she's their best?

There's literally no chance I'm not winning these Games. Even if I only have these three little twerps to back me up.

Eira, Shay, and Armada are nothing special, and I can't see them getting any higher than a three, but if nothing else their meat shields. Members of my pack, their only purpose is to serve me and make sure I win.

If only they'd be a little bit more willing to throw their lives away for me. Shay and Armada are young, but they both aren't going down without a fight. And Eira is so protective over them it's almost cute. Almost.

I'm an outcast in my own pack, but that's fine. They need me, without me, they'd be nothing short of hopeless. I'm the brains and the brawn of this alliance. I'm irreplaceable.

Suddenly Shay's face is on the screen, and I lean forward a little bit, noticing Eira and Armada do the same. Our escort has long since retired to her bedroom, leaving the three of us to watch the scores in mostly silence.

I'm honestly shocked when a little red four appears under Shay's name, and both Eira and Armada let out a sigh of relief, along with a small chuckle from both of them.

"That's so good," Eira squeals, and Armada nods in return, a big bright grin all over his face. I want to tell them to calm down, and I probably would if it were anyone else. But Eira and Armada do mean something to me, deep down I'm going to miss them when their gone, but I have to win. I'm going to win. Which means eventually they'll die.

Shay's face is soon replaced with the older boy from Seven. The one who shocked everyone by coming in second in the Killzone. Regan pulls in an eight, and I feel like I should be surprised, considering he beat two of the careers, but honestly I'm not. He's a killer, I have no doubts about that, and I've always know him to be threat.

Next up is the older girl from Seven, the screen revealing her name to be Phoebe. I've seen her around, well more like heard her with her loud mouth. I'm pretty sure she's with the boy from Three, whose equally as arrogant.

Phoebe matches her allies score, scoring a six of her own. Which is actually quite surprising, considering I had pegged her as all talk. I guess I better actually watch out for that duo.

Again, I'm impressed by the little girl from Seven's score of four. I'd seen her weapon of choice - a pathetic slingshot. I had expected her to score one of the lowest scores, but a four is pretty average for us outer-district tributes.

I hear Eira take in a sharp breath as Lavender's face is soon replaced with Armada's. Here we go, the moment of truth. Just how prepared are my allies?

I can't help but smile when Armada matches Shay's four, and I realize their not as hopeless as I thought they were. Maybe they actually can help me when it comes time to fight.

Eira is next, and she anxiously stands up, turning away from the screen.

"How did I do?" she says a few moments later, and Armada answers with her three. Eira's shoulders visibly slump, but she turns back around a small smile on her face.

"Oh well," she says. "I'm sure Avrie will do better!"

I let out a small snort. There's no doubt, I'll probably triple her score if not higher.

My face is soon on the screen, and I find myself getting just a tad nervous as I wait for my score to appear.

When it finally does, I almost scream. Eira and Armada both congratulate me, but I yell at them both to shut up.

A fucking six? A six! That's it? I should have gotten higher, I should have at least got a seven, which was the lowest career score. I killed it in there. I tore those dummies apart, and I'm rewarded with a six?

"Are you ok?" Eira quietly whispers, and I notice both her and Armada starring at me. A look of hurt in both their eyes.

"Oh yah, I'm fine. I just expected to do better, sorry for snapping." I don't need them being scared of me, because for right now I do need them. I can't enter the Games alone, especially now that I know I'm not nearly as prepared as I thought I was.

I calm down slightly when the stupid number disappears from the screen, replaced by the blonde girl from Nine and her score of five. She is a weird one, I'd watched her in training glaring at her allies every time they turn their backs. For that reason alone I had put her on my watch list, and for good reason obviously. Her five proves she isn't totally useless.

The screen quickly moves on to District Ten, the boys cocky face instantly appearing. I have no idea why, but he had chosen to ally with Shay's youngest District partner. He was obviously strong, and yes he was hot, with the attitude to back it up. He was going far in these Games, and apparently he planned on dragging the little girl with him.

His score of seven boils my blood. He did better than me. A six, a fucking six. That's all I got? My fists instantly clench around the pillow, ready to tear it apart. But I restrain myself, for Eira and Armada.

The boys weaker District partner soon replaces his face, and I almost don't recognize her. I know she's in the big all girls alliance, but she was never a standout in that alliance. She was a background character, and her four proves that. She's a bloodbath, I'm absolutely sure of it.

The small dark-skinned girl from Eleven is up next, and I remember her being with the young boy from Three. They were cute together, but cute gets you no where but dead in these Games. Unless of course your name is Eira, Shay or Armada, and you happen to be allied with the victor of the Games.

The girl pulls in a five, and this time I can't help but whip the pillow at the screen. She's twelve, and she got one lower than me. Are you fucking kidding me?

Eira and Armada both stare at me questioningly, but I just chuckle in response, pretending it was just a joke.

"Impressive for her age," I comment through clenched teeth, and they both just nod in response.

Finally, the last tribute's face appears. The loner girl from Twelve with the name I can't even pronounce. Xylia? Who knows.

Her solemn face is soon accompanied by a score of seven, and I almost reach for a pillow, or something harder. But I restrain myself.

"We did pretty well, and there's a lot of higher scoring outer tributes. Perhaps we won't have to be the ones to take on the careers after all," Eira smiles, and I fake a smile in return.

I wasn't the best. I'm always the best? What happened Avrie?

It doesn't matter, it's just a stupid score. I can still win. I will still win.

No matter who gets in my way, I'll do it. I'll kill them all if I have to.

I just want to go home.

* * *

**Song: I'm a Ruin by Marina and the Diamonds**

* * *

**Hey guys, it's Fin! No excuses, just a late chapter! Oh well, stuff happens right? I'd like to say next chapter will be on time, but who knows! Two more chapters until The Games though, whose excited?**

**If you have the time, we'd all love to see a review! Anyways, I think that's it! Oh wait, the poll! Congrats to Avrie of District Eight for winning, though we all knew she would right? My tributes are bae..**

_**Any standout scores? ****Any scores you didn't expect? ****Any bloodbath predictions?**_

* * *

**Okay it's Olive, adding onto Fin's note with the results of the poll we had earlier. Thanks to everyone who voted and congratulations to Avrie L'reaux for coming in first place. In second place we had Maelle, Phoebe, Toby, and Corlis. In third, Zaria, Raleigh, Savvy, Tatum, and Armada. All other placements can be found on my profile if you click on the poll!**

**See you all next update!**


	11. Angels

**The A Team by Ed Sheeran**

_It's too cold outside__  
__For angels to fly__._

* * *

**Armada Pruitt, 13, District Eight**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"I'll just bet your mentors are having you play up your cute-as-a-button looks for the interviews aren't they?" My stylist coos from across the room where her sharp fingertips rip at a seam that was sewn just a bit too tight for me.

"Um, no I don't think so," I say absentmindedly. I know that it doesn't really matter what I say, one thing I have learned is that most of the people that are assigned to take care of us really could not care less about us. Especially the creepy lady that has been making my clothes this week. I don't even think she heard my answer to that question. All she really wants to hear is the sound of her own creaky voice.

"Well not to worry," she says. "By the time I'm done with you the sponsors will be lined up around the block for you, darling."

"I'm sure," I can't help but snort. It's already pretty clear that not many people will be betting on District Eight this year, and if they are they will be betting on Avrie or maybe even Eira and not me. If my age and size aren't enough to deter sponsors than my training score and average rankings obviously will be. Sponsors really aren't something I'm going to allow myself to think about.

Maybe that's why I'm not nervous about the interviews that are going to be starting in just a couple hours. I have spent the entire day with my mentors and stylist, working on answers and letting Sylvie work on my face. Even with all the commotion surrounding tonight, I just can't bring myself to worry about it. It's not like I could really mess up so bad that I'll affect the opinions of my nonexistent sponsors anyway.

It's not that I'm bitter even. Okay maybe it is, just a little bit. I mean, if this whole being chosen to be killed in an arena thing was going to happen no matter what I wish I could have at least been chosen a few years from now. Maybe when my body filled out a bit more and after I've hit another growth spurt, or at the very least just aged a bit more. No one is going to bet on a thirteen year old kid, why would they?

And that is hardly fair.

"Oh isn't this just perfect!"

I turn towards Sylvie and my eyes immediately widen to the size of tennis balls. She is holding up my outfit for tonight, which I expected to just be a suit of some sort. The outfits for the boys' interviews are always dim in comparison to the parade costumes and even to the girls' outfits, not that I mind. I had hoped to be as close to invisible tonight as was possible.

Now it looks like I am not even going to get that wish, I can't help but think as I watch Sylvie swoon over the blue jacket she is holding. The pants are on the table in front of her, looking as normal as can be in a simple grey while the jacket makes my eyes burn. It's blue, and I don't mean a navy blue. It is _bright _freaking blue.

"Oh I know, it's simply visionary of me!" She exclaims and I swear I can see tears in her eyes, though they might be from looking at the jacket too long. "Colored ties are so boring. I am going to make you the next big trend."

I stand in front of the mirror about ten minutes later, fully dressed in what Sylvie promises me will gain me sponsors. All I can think as I look at the thing is how badly I wish I could run away and just skip this entire thing. Is it not bad enough that I'm already one of the lowest ranking tributes? Is this actually necessary? It feels like everything is just piling on top of each other, just waiting to fall all over me in a giant mound of suffocating embarrassment.

The blue jacket is the only part of the outfit that has any color, the rest of it is a light grey. The pants, shoes, socks, tie, and shirt; all of it grey. Sylvie adjusts the tie so that it is another inch closer to choking me. I don't know if I'm overreacting or if the stress of this entire thing is finally getting to me, but I feel like I want to cry.

"Don't you just love it?" She coos, stepping back to admire whatever she just made for me.

"No," I choke out, feeling the tears about to come but forcing myself to try and hold them back. "I don't like it. Let me take it off. Please."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," she scoffs. "You look lovely."

"Please, just let me go back upstairs," I try to say a bit more firmly but it hardly works. I feel a tear run down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away, realizing then that my hands are shaking. I don't understand why I'm getting so upset. It's one more night of embarrassment and then it'll be over.

No, then I'll be in the arena.

"What has gotten into you?" Sylvie says, a frown deepening into her face. "You don't say a word and then suddenly you're the fashion expert? Well it doesn't matter, there is no time for you to change so you'll have to go as you are."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak or else I might embarrass myself even more. Crying over a stupid outfit? If I haven't already convinced everyone what a child I am, I definitely have now.

"I'm going to go fetch your prep team to finish your makeup," Sylvie says as she heads for the door, leaving me to watch myself in the mirror. "For the record, I think you will blow them away no matter what you think."

* * *

**Hunter Mathot, 16, District Ten**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

This is the moment I've been waiting for. The moment when every eye in all of Panem will be on me. The moment I can finally expose District Ten and the people who live there for what they truly are.

Once upon a time I was a nice boy. My parents constantly bring up my childhood, when I was a happy, kind, naive little boy who loved everyone. The perfect child they deemed me, but it's now that I'm truly perfect.

That retched District transformed me into who I am today; confident, strong, and most importantly good looking. I guess I have them to thank for that, but they also made my life a living hell.

If it wasn't for Cara, I would be happy I'm here instead of there. My sister was born different. I've no idea what it is, but she looks and acts different. She can't talk properly, and she has the mental capability of someone much younger than her.

District Ten shunned her. They laughed, and they gossiped. My family was a joke to them because of her, and my parents, ashamed, joined in on the fun. Cara wasn't a real person, she was just a means of laughter to them. It was disgusting.

The happy little boy I once was disappeared, and reborn was who I really am. Who I was meant to be.

I hate District Ten. Hate everybody in it, other than Cara. If it wasn't for her, I might try and make a life here in the Capitol after I win these Games. Who knows, I might still, just with her.

"There, all done." my stylist says, finishing up my outfit. I'm wearing a classic suit, a nice one I might add. I have on a bright red bow tie, and my shirt is unbuttoned enough to expose most of my chest. My stylist knows I'm hot, and he's using that to his, and my advantage.

"Follow me," he says without another word, and I do. He leads me down a long hall, and into an elevator that takes all the way down to wherever the stage has been set up.

A few more halls and we've reached the waiting area, where most of the other tributes stand around in small groups. I don't have to look for her, Lavender is already upon me when I step into the room.

She doesn't speak. She just stands beside me, eyes flickering around the room at all the other tributes.

I guess you could say I chose Lavender because she reminds me of Cara in a sense. She's stubborn, and definitely a fighter. Two traits I admire deeply in my sister. Plus I never really wanted to go into this thing alone anyways, I might have thought I did, but as much as I'd rather not admit it, the Games are a scary thing. And I just might need someone to keep me calm.

It's only a matter of minutes later when they call our names out one at a time to line up. District Ten and Seven aren't close to each other, so eventually Lavender and I are separated, though the nerves in both of us make it hard to concentrate on each other. She'll be fine, she can certainly handle herself.

I'm near the back, which means I've got a long wait ahead of me. There is one good thing about my placing though, Corlis is right before me, and I can guarantee she'll be a wreck up there, leaving it to me to swoop in and shine like I always do.

Make a few confident comments, make fun of the the careers a little, they'll practically be eating out of my hands. And then I can get the tears going, by telling them exactly what District Ten did to me and my sister, and when I win I'll have them all punished. Everyone who ever made fun of her will regret it. Every last one.

I'm distracted by Corlis's non-stop chatter with her ally from Nine, who conveniently gets to stand right in front of her.

Right now their talking about someone else in their alliance, and I think I recognize the name to be that of the girl from Three.

"You can't seriously like her Corlis? Can't you see how fake she is?"

Corlis doesn't respond other than to laugh slightly, and continue to look more than a little uncomfortable. Maybe I should step in? I mean there's obvious cracks here, I could totally tear that alliance apart.

But apart of me feels bad for Corlis, even if she is from my disgusting District. She's caught up in an obvious feud between two of her allies - I had heard her talking about it with the escort a few nights ago.

Corlis isn't meant for this. The Games I mean. She hasn't got a merciless bone in her body, and I seriously doubt she could kill a fly. She's hopeless, and she can't even enjoy her last few days alive because of the bickering between two of her allies.

I remind myself that I don't care, and tune out the conversation. Who cares how Corlis spends her last few days, as long as they are her last. Everyone in this room is on their last few days, except me of course.

I notice Corlis take a step forward, and look to the front of the line to see the dark-haired girl from One has taken to the stage, which means the interviews are starting.

I'm nervous, but really I have no reason to be. I'm going to go out there and kill it.

I'm going to make District Ten regret every hateful work they ever said about Cara, just like I promised her when I said goodbye.

I won't let you down Cara. Your big brother is coming home.

* * *

**Zaria Tullius, 18, District One**

**Acereader55**

* * *

I hate this.

Deep breaths Zaria, deep breaths. Keep your emotions in check. Don't let your emotions get the better of you.

I have to keep repeating this mantra to myself over and over again to keep myself from lashing out at someone that talks to me. I loathe the interviews, and always have even watching them on the television at home or at the training center. I just feel like they're so useless. So unimportant. Why should we have to talk about ourselves and our skills to the people of Panem when we can just show them off in the arena? It's idiotic, and quite frankly, annoying.

One of the stage directors walks over next to me and pats me on the shoulder lightly. I turn around quickly, my midnight black ponytail swaying behind me like a raven in the night.

"The interviews are about to start," the stage director says. No shit. "You're up first Zaria. Good luck." He smiles and turns around and walks in the opposite direction of the stage. Two more people come up on either side of me and command me to move forwards, and I do as asked. I turn around and Raleigh waves at me before I disappear behind curtains leading me down a hallway.

The curtains are of a velvet texture, much like some of the items in my luxurious home back at home in District One. Oh, how I miss the feeling of being home. Actually, no, I don't. At least this is some what entertaining compared to my life back home.

The hallway stops and I reach the edge of the curtains, and they begin to fade away into the back as they make way for what I presume to be the stage. A stage director, similar to the one that first directed me, puts his hand on the small of my back and whispers into a microphone attached to a headset.

"You're on in 3…2…1…" He pushes me slightly and I walk on out onto the stage, confidently moving my body with every step that I take. I make sure to give a slight nod to the crowd as I pass by, making sure never to wave or break the delicate smirk that is plastered onto my face. Leave the smiling to Raleigh, let me be the mysterious girl that people want to know more of.

"Welcome, Zaria Tullius of District One!" The interviewer stands up to greet me, taking my hand in his much larger one and gives it a gentle kiss, garnishing a curtsey from me as he does so. "So lovely to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you."

The stage lights are blindingly bright, but I manage to force myself not to squint as I turn to face the crowd and widen my smirk, gaining a few whistles from the male members of the audience. I make sure to brush my mini-skirt off and cross my legs like my mentor told me to, showing off the tan nature of my long, thin legs.

"That skirt is absolutely _gorgeous_," the interviewer gushes. "I'm sure a beautiful girl such as yourself wouldn't mind getting up and spinning around for the audience to see?"

The audience cheers very loudly and I put my hand on my chin, pretending to ponder about my answer for the question, despite knowing what I must do.

"I don't mind at all." I get up from my seat carefully and walk farther out onto the stage and begin to twirl around. My midnight black skirt twirls around with me and as I twirl, it begins to open up slightly, revealing golden streaks running through it. Huh, I guess my stylist was more crafty than I thought she was.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Absolutely _stunning_!" The interviewer helps me back to my sit and I graciously sit back down, crossing my legs yet again. "Now Zaria, a little birdy tells me that you're in an alliance with all of your district partners. Is that true?"

"It is absolutely true," I say with a smile. "We decided staying loyal to the District was the best thing to do, and I am positive they are more then capable allies, Deidre too."

"Dierdre as in the District Four girl, whom also joined up with you?"

"Yes. She joined with us, which was the smarter choice for her game. She joined with the right alliance. The best alliance." I pause, allowing for the audience to grip onto every word I say and wait in anticipation for my next word. "The _winning_ alliance."

"Such confident words coming from a charming and mysterious young lady such as yourself!" I laugh a little bit at the compliment, having heard it many times before. "Where does a young woman such as yourself get that much confidence? Perhaps from your home?"

I knew talk about my home would spring up eventually, so I was prepared to have to answer some questions about my home life. I'm just grateful it was brought up at the tail end of the interview, so I don't have to spend that long talking about the personal crap.

"My home was a rather mundane place, if I'm being honest." This gathers some gasps from the audience as I'm sure they weren't expecting that coming from the pristine girl from District One. "My mother and father were nice and polite, hard-working and good at what they do. Nothing more than that, and nothing less. I am the way I am because of my dedication to the Hunger Games and my dedication to the Capitol. I am who I am because the Capitol and the Hunger Games shaped me to be this person, and I couldn't be any happier than to stand before you today as the person I am."

The audience claps wildly after that statement and I breathe a sigh of relief as the cheers grow even louder once the buzzer beeps, signaling the ending of my interview. The interviewer once again grabs my hand and I bow with him, and then walk off stage.

As I walk through the curtained hallway once again, I pass by Raleigh who must be up next.

"Good job Zaria," she says. "I knew you could do it." With a wink and a flip of her hair she walks out of sight, and I'm left alone once again in the hallway of curtains.

I may not be as flirty as Raleigh, as strong as Jasper, or as crude as Arnette, but I am a contender. I am silent but deadly. I maybe the underdog, but nobody should count me out.

Sometimes the dark horse does win.

* * *

**Dierdre Lewell, 18, District Four**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I clutch onto my mentor's forearm. He was permitted to wait with me after I expressed worries that I might not be able to stand myself up to wait in line. I woke up this morning with the most terrible headache that I have ever had in my life, but it wasn't until lunch time that I knew I was really sick. Right now I am teetering on the edge between nerves and sickness, and I am still not quite sure which one is making me want to vomit.

"You're up next," he whispers and I nod. Ebba and Atlas have already done their interviews are left to go back upstairs. I am happy about that. Their stares, which were a mixture of pity and disgust, only have proved to cement their ideas about me. I am already the joke of the Career Pack, this just makes it easier for them to say why.

The voice from onstage cuts through my head like a dagger, but I begin the steps up to the stage regardless. "May I present to you our next guest, Miss Dierdre Lewell of District Four!"

As soon as I am able to see the lights from the audience I know that they can see me. I do my best to muster up a smile and wave at them, but even that slight movement when combined with walking makes my head pound and my stomach churn.

I sit down in the nearest chair and relief floods me. It takes everything in me to keep the smile on my face and stop from squinting at the bright lights that assault my eyes. I lean back in the seat as far as I dare, knowing that the angle will be unflattering but deciding that it is worth it to lessen the pressure on my stomach.

"Dierdre," The Interviewer says. Why can't I remember his name? "What a lovely name for such a lovely girl."

"Thank you," I say, my voice cracking on the second word. I cough in an attempt to cover it but I'm sure that the microphone picked it up anyways. "You can thank my stylist for the dress, it would make anyone look beautiful."

"Even me?" He gasps, pausing to laugh at his own stupid joke. "But in all seriousness, you pull it off almost as well as I would."

"I am honoured to even be compared to you." I know I am laying it on thick, but I remember seeing him in previous years. He can get nasty if you don't play him right. I don't think I can handle anything more than playful banter right now.

"Oh you," he laughs, nudging me gently. "So let's get down to business shall we?"

"Of course," I nod politely.

"How do you find the other members of your alliance? If rumours prove to be true than I've heard you have teamed up with the four District One tributes."

This is the last thing I want to talk about. "They are very nice people, I am happy to be with them."

"Do you find yourself at all on the, shall I say, outside," he pries. "I don't mean to offend you, but those tributes look fierce and you just look so sweet."

My stomach begins to hurt again, from nerves maybe or from the flu that I assume I am getting. Suddenly I get the feeling that something isn't quite..right. I do my best to swallow the feeling and answer the question, I have waited too long already.

"Not at all," I say, my eyes going to the floor. "I think-"

That is as far as I get before I come to the realization that I need to get off of this stage right now or I am going to throw up on it. My hands are shaking and my brain feels like it is trying to escape out the front of my head. I have to get out of here. Right now.

"I-I'm sorry," I stutter, holding one hand to my mouth and the other arm curling around my stomach. I stand and run as fast as I can, getting away from the lights a second later and stumbling down the stairs.

My mentor catches me before I fall to the ground, by now I am in tears. I can feel the other tributes staring at me but I don't even care. I push myself out of his grasp and lean myself over a nearby garbage can, falling to the floor under it a second later with more tears running down my cheeks.

"Dierdre, come on," I can hear the harshness in his voice as he pulls me to my feet. He leads me past the other tributes and past the elevator bank. I am about to ask where we are going before he tells me first. "I needed to get you away from the other tributes before I called for a medic. I don't need them seeing any more of this, you're supposed to be a Career what the hell was that?"

"I told you I didn't want to do it," I hiss and it's true. After spending hours with my Prep Team trying on outfits and getting my hair pulled I had told him that I was too sick to do it. He told me to get over it.

"There won't be any getting through this, Die," he says, the frustration clear in his voice. "I've tried so hard for you, but there's nothing else I can do. You go into the arena tomorrow and I can bet you that the other Careers have already heard about your meltdown. You were never doing that well in the rankings, but now? I don't even know what to tell you."

* * *

**Matilda Prescott, 18, District Nine**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

To be honest, I don't pay much attention to the other interviews as they pass by. I don't care enough about these people to pay attention. I don't much care for anything anymore, other than Maelle and her crazy attitude.

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

She's fake, and a bitch, and I can't stand anything about her. She talks all nice and sweet, but I know very well as soon as that gong sounds I'm her number one target. And then she'll have Corlis and Savvy all to herself, the sneaky little bitch.

I know that the District Eight male is on right now - the little one who will die in the bloodbath - but he's not making that big of a splash, so I tune out his interview as I've done with most of the others.

It's best not to get attached. It'll make it easier when the time comes for me to kill.

That's right, I've decided I'll kill. Better yet, I've decided I'll win. I'm not going to lose, because it's just not who I am. I am a winner, and these stupid Games are no fucking different.

The District Eight boy finished his interview, and hurries off stage, quickly disappearing behind the group of us still waiting to go out on stage.

The interviewer stands up again, flattening out his suit before making a joke to the crowd. Something about these starting to drag on, before he begins to welcome me onto the stage.

"Alright folks, it's time for us to meet our first single tribute District of the night! Matilda, come on out!"

I quickly glance in the mirror, checking to make sure everything is perfect. I notice my curled blonde hair is slightly out of place, and quickly put it back into place. Next, I see that my simple white dress is wrinkled just a tad, and spend several moments trying to flatten it out.

By the time I remember that I'm supposed to be going out on the stage, the interviewer whose name has escaped me, is calling out my name again.

"Hello!" I say as I hurry out on stage, attempting to conceal how flustered I feel. I sit before he does, and he stands there awkwardly, as if I had missed something.

"In a rush?" he jokes as he takes his seat. I don't bother answering, because the answer is obvious. Of course I am, I only have a few moments to make myself liked, and wasting it with petty questions is not in the game plan.

I smile over at him, and he finally gets the memo. "So Matilda, how are you finding the Capitol?"

What a stupid question. It's nice of course, but even if it wasn't I wouldn't dare say that in front of the people who live here, who coincidently are the same people I'm trying to make like me.

"It's fine, now, I think I can win because not only do I have a strong alliance behind me, but I have the drive and determination to show you people just how strong I can be, and how much I deserve to win."

He laughs again, and so does the audience, but I'm not sure why. I'm just trying to get this thing going.

"That's nice dear, but how about your family?"

I roll my eyes. Does this idiot not now how to do a proper interview?

"I like my allies, but there is definitely some tension between us." I say, attempting to capture the audiences attention.

"We heard yes, do you and Maelle not get along?" Perfect! A question I can work with!

"She's a nice girl, but we butt heads sometimes sure. We don't always agree on everything, and she hasn't quite accepted the fact that I'm the leader of our little group."

"That's nice Matilda, but what about you? Who is Matilda Prescott?"

Back to these idiotic questions again I see.

"Someone who is certainly willing to do anything in her power to get home." I sigh with finality. It's true, I'm going home, and Maelle can suck it if she thinks any differently.

"I like that," the man says, and the audience roars in approval. I can't help but smile out at the crowd. They like me, they really do, probably more than the like Maelle, which means I have accomplished my goal of the evening.

"Any last words?"

"No, because whatever I say won't be my last words, because I can guarantee you I will be sitting in this chair again come a few weeks."

I stand up, smiling a the crowd once more before walking off stage without another word. Corlis smiles at me as I pass her, ready to go and tackle her interview. But I don't stop to chat, because her name is being called before I can even fully make it off stage. Her face suddenly drops, and I see the panic in her eyes, but I'm sure she'll do great. Corlis is adorable. She's one of those people you have to like because she's just so awkwardly cute.

I think it went well for me though. The audience really seemed to like me, which will help me defeat Maelle in the long run. The more support for me equals less support for her, which can never hurt.

When I was reaped, I never thought I would act like this. I've never had such strong feelings for someone as I do Maelle, but I've always been a bit obsessive.

And if there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I won't stop until I eliminate Maelle. She's taken over my life, and I certainly cannot have that.

Maelle will die, even if it's the last thing I do.

* * *

**Zeno King, 17, District Three**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

No matter how much I did it in school, I still loathe presentations. This seemed to be a hundred times worse than anything I have done in the past, though, because this time it's not just a failing grade looming over me. Even though it's over and there is nothing I can do to fix whatever I probably did wrong tonight, I can't put the thoughts to rest. Tonight was my last chance to prove myself, and more than anything I fear that once again I was unable to do it.

The strangest things is that even though she is all the way back in District Three, I can still hear my mother's voice echoing in my head. She would have certainly had something to say about my time on stage. It would be the biggest surprise of my life is she was finally happy with something I did.

As I begin to head up to our suite, my mentor the only one I have to share my elevator car with, I try but fail to stop thinking about her. Just like I have always been unable to do, I just can't get her harsh voice out of my head. The insults when I couldn't do something and the snarky comments even when I did something exactly as I was supposed to. Nothing made her happy and nothing made the horrible words stop.

And yet I cannot say that I do not miss her.

As much as she made every moment I was at home difficult, I can't ignore the fact that she was trying to teach me things through them. When I was younger I didn't understand. My friends' mothers would coddle them and make them feel like everything they did was simply perfect. I even resented her for a while.

I'm older now, though. I can see the effects of my childhood and how she taught me, but I cannot argue that they are all bad. I have thick-skin and I know how to fight for what I want. I'm patient. I guess that was bound to happen. When you spend a good chunk of your life wanting only one thing and you are unable to get it you would either end up giving up or keep going for it. Thankfully I think I am the latter.

"You're awfully quiet, Zeno."

"Just tired," I shrug. As soon as I say it I realize how true the statement is, a yawn enveloping me. I lean back against the wall of the car and close my eyes for a moment. The ding that tells me we have arrived on our floor wakes me a few seconds later.

As soon as we are back in the suite, I can already see Savvy sitting at the table alone. I am about to ask where everyone is when I turn back around and see that my mentor is gone. I open my mouth to say something, my thumb pointing towards the empty air behind me, when Savvy beats me to it.

"They have to wait for Maelle and Toby."

"Oh," I say. It makes sense. Savvy and I had the first two interviews for District Three and Toby and Maelle are still downstairs either waiting in line or already on stage. Maelle is probably going to be finishing up in the next few minutes, as a matter of fact.

Not particularly wanting to be alone for the night, at least not just yet, I decide to sit down with Savvy. There is a tray of mugs and as soon as I pull one of them and place it in front of me an Avox appears in front of me and pours a green-clear liquid up to the rim. I thank him quietly and bring the drink up to smell it. It has a bitter smell and I place it back down in front of me.

"They said it's tea," she says quietly.

I study the drink for another moment. The clear-coloured part looks sort of like tea, I guess, but every tea I've ever had has had sprigs of herbs and leaves in it. "This doesn't look like any tea I've ever had?"

She laughs lightly. "I've never had tea. That's just what she ordered me before she went back downstairs. She said it would be good for the nerves."

"You're nervous?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. If I were to have guessed I wouldn't have said she was nervous at all. She looks calm, serene even, just sitting here by herself sipping on a hot drink.

"Of course, aren't you?"

I begin to think up something witty to say, but when I look at her face she looks genuinely curious. I close off the words before they even begin to leave my lips. I haven't really thought about how I am feeling about this whole thing. All of my night time thoughts have been consumed by what my mother would think of me.

After a moment I look down at my hands. The fact that they are shaking like a leaf in a windstorm gives me all the answer I need. "I'm very nervous."

She smiles down into her tea. "I think everyone is nervous, so I wouldn't have believed you if you said you weren't."

"Everyone?" I raise an eyebrow when she says that. "I don't think the Career tributes are nervous. They're probably on the edge of their seats with excitement."

"I think you overestimate them," she shrugs. Standing from her chair and leaving the empty mug in front of her. "People are going to be dead tomorrow, and no one knows who that is going to be. Well not for sure at least. The Careers could be a few of those, even if it's less likely it could still happen."

Her words hit me in a strange way. I never thought of the Career tributes as even being capable of fear or nervousness. When Savvy walks away I decide to let her go. It's going to be a long night for all of us and if she wants to spend it alone then so be it. Personally I don't think I'm brave enough to be alone tonight.

* * *

**Maelle Thurske, 18, District Three**

**Acereader55**

* * *

I tried.

That's the only thought I can keep replaying over and over again in my head. I tried my best to succeed in training. I tried my best to form a strong alliance that I could work with. I tried my best in my interview, even though I wasn't smooth like some other people. But at least I _tried_. I did the best that I could do, and that's all I can really ask of myself anymore.

I get up from the comfortable king sized bed and start to pace back and forth throughout my room. I usually am not this nervous, but considering the Games start tomorrow and I could be dead in just over twelve hours, I think it's understandable that I'm quite nervous.

I don't trust my alliance as it stands, there's double the amount of Careers there are in a usual Games, and on top of that, there are plenty more capable tributes out there than I am. How in the hell am I supposed to come out the Victor?

I curl back up at the foot of my bed and draw my knees up against my face and let the sobs come racking out of body. I can't help but cry the nerves away, and my body shakes with every sob that I let out. I don't know how else to get my nerves out, and crying seems like the only viable option at this point, so I let myself cry. And cry some more. And continue crying until someone opens the door to my bedroom.

I notice who it is immediately without them having to say anything.

Savvy walks over right to my side and sits down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and allowing me to finish sobbing into her arm. I know it seems odd that someone younger than me is comforting me, but in this moment I don't care. I need to release everything that has been bottling up inside me.

"It'll be okay Maelle, don't worry," she whispers into my ear. "One way or another it'll all be okay. For you, for me, for Corlis and Matilda, for Zeno and Toby, one way or another it'll all turn out okay for all of us."

"That's why I'm upset Savvy," I say through the tears. "Because you know as well as I do that it won't be okay. It'll never be okay again. Only one of the thirty of us can win, and the likelihood that it'll be someone we're close to is so small."

"Then we'll all be together again in the afterlife," Savvy says. "One way or another Maelle, we'll end up together again. Nothing will ever tear people apart, truly. It'll be okay."

I continue sobbing for several more minutes before I finally can't cry any longer. The tears stop flowing down my face and soon, Savvy and I are sitting up on my bed talking about our lives back in District Three. I come close to crying again as I talk about my family and hear about hers, but I keep my composure as she talks about some of her friends.

"And one time, he-"

"Savvy, can I tell you something, honestly?"

"Of course Maelle, you shouldn't even have to ask that question."

"Okay, here goes. I don't trust Matilda. And before you throw it away listen. I know you think she's innocent and a good ally and a good person, but she isn't. She's been trying to get me to be on the outs of the alliance since we invited her into it, and she only does her little things when you or Corlis aren't looking. Please don't hate me for going against one of our allies."

"Maelle. I know."

"What?"

"I know."

"You've known all this time and haven't agreed with me when I hinted to it before?" Anger begins to boil up inside me. Why hadn't she told me that she believed me sooner so I didn't feel like a horrible person for thinking all of this?

"No, I didn't know all this time Maelle. I honestly didn't think anything was wrong during training. But when she made faces and gestures at you today on the interviews line when she thought nobody was looking, yeah I started to realize what you were saying was true."

Before I can do anything else, I tackle Savvy in a huge embrace as we fall onto the bed, giggling like little school girls.

"I'm glad I have you as my true ally Savvy, I don't know what I'd do without you."

She giggles and so do I and we hug one more time, and when we pull away I can see Savvy's mind working.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"Well, since she's fooled me for this long, I was thinking it's only fair to do the same thing to her." She smirks and so do I, knowing where this talk is going.

"So what are you suggesting?"

"Well, here's what I had in mind…"

* * *

**Song: The A Team by Ed Sheeran.**

* * *

**A/N: Well we are finally getting up to updating after a bit of playing tag with POVs over the past few days. From what I heard from Fin, this has turned out to be a pretty fabulous chapter and we're pretty excited to hear what you guys think too. **

**There really isn't much to say here, other than to mention the fact that next chapter will be our last Capitol chapter. That means, yes after all this time, we are finally going to get to the arena. We have plenty of surprises that we're getting excited about writing. **

**Pretty much it, review if you have the time to. I'll put down a couple of questions to get the thoughts/comments flowing. Yeah that sounds like a good plan. **

_**What did you think of these tributes the second time around?**_

_**Might as well ask it, but who do you see killing in the Bloodbath? Who do you see maybe dying? **_

**That's it I think? Hope so. I am no longer used to making these for ID. I'm making Fin/Ace do it next time this was pretty awful. Alight bye until next time.**


	12. Screams

**I lived by One Republic**

_Hope when the crowd screams out, _

_They're screaming your name._

* * *

**Atlas Majors, 16, District Four**

**Acereader55**

* * *

A soft knock at my door disturbs me from my thoughts that have been so rampant since the early hours of the morning.

"Atlas dear," my escort says. "It's time to wake up. Today's the big day!"

'The big day' she calls it. Easy for her to say the big day when her life isn't on the line. Am I scared? No, scared isn't the right way to describe my feelings. Anxious, more like it. I want to get the first day over with, and I want the Bloodbath to go away as quickly as possible.

It's imperative my alliance kills as many tributes as possible to separate ourselves from the other Career pack. We need to make sure the audience sees that we are the superior Career alliance and that we are the ones they should be sponsoring, not the pack from One that my idiot district partner so readily agreed to join.

Speaking of Dierdre, she's been acting even weirder since the last time we spoke. Ever since her incident on the stage during the Interviews, she's been even quieter and more closed off than before. Poor girl probably realizes she's nothing more than a laughing stock to the entire Capitol, and honestly she'll probably never enjoy a sponsor gift unless her alliance members get one and share it with her, which is unlikely that they'd share it with her of all people. Can't she see she's the outcast of that alliance?

I, on the other hand, am in a great spot in my alliance. Ebba and I are obviously closer because of our similar district background, and Arnette seems to like me enough. Eden and Braden are very much on the outside, not every prominent within the alliance or the discussions that take place, especially Braden. That guy is like a walking mystery. He almost never speaks and when he does it's in short bursts and he only gives one or two word answers to whoever he's talking to. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the first one to perish of our alliance, despite his obvious large stature.

"Atlas, are you awake?" My escort's shrill voice fills my ears and once again I am filled with annoyance. Does she constantly have to bother me and ask me every five minutes if I'm ready for some other event? "You need to get ready so that you're on time for the hovercraft launch!"

"I'm awake," I say, through gritted teeth. "Now please stop interrupting me and let me get dressed in peace and quiet."

I can hear the click of her heels walk away from my door and towards Ebba's door. Holy hell, the woman is really asking for it this morning. I really wouldn't want to piss Ebba off at all, but especially not on the morning when all that's on her mind is surviving through killing other people.

I walk across my room and open the double doors that lead me into the wide closet with an array of different clothing, all of different colors and shapes that are tailored to fit me perfectly. I'll never understand how the Capitol does this; making sure everything fits perfectly on me despite only seeing me for a little over a week. It's astonishing, and I'm happy I've gotten to experience such luxury before I do possibly perish.

No. No, I can't start thinking like that. I have to remain positive and believe that I will win. _When_ I win, I will be able to come to the Capitol and experience such luxury on a daily basis, and it will be amazing. There will be nothing that I can't have, and I can't wait to share the luxury I have with my family. My life after I win will be amazing, it's just the getting there that will be a little difficult.

I eventually snap out of my thoughts and settle on wearing a simple blue t-shirt and shorts that are almost the same color as the shirt. As per usual, the clothes fit perfectly and are very comfortable on my body. The Capitol really does know how to take care of its special guests.

As I walk out of the door and into the hallway, I turn back around and take one last look at the bedroom in which I've been sleeping in the past week. _This is where it all began_. This room is where I started my victory, and if I ever come back here again that room is where I want to end up. I know I can do this, and I leave the room rather quickly because I am confident that this won't be the last time that I see this room. I will be coming back here, and for that I am sure.

As I arrive at the main dining room table of our suite, I see Ebba and Dierdre already eating their food, munching on cereal, muffins, fruits, and several other things. Probably a smart thing to do considering this maybe the last guaranteed full meal that we will have.

"Come on Atlas," Ebba says. "Eat up before we board the hovercraft. This will be the last decent meal we get for a while." I pull up the seat next to Ebba and start munching away at a chocolate chip muffin, which is delightful.

I can't help but notice Dierdre isn't saying a single word and that she's sitting at the opposite side of the table. The girl is probably scared out of her mind, and she has a right to be. She abandoned her district partners for a pack full of people from One, in which she's clearly the outsider. If I was her, I would just drop dead right now. She has no shot at winning this, not if I have any say about this.

Because after all, I already know who's winning.

Me.

* * *

**Regan Volke, 18, District Seven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I stuff a few pieces of bread into my mouth. I look up for a second and see two pairs of eyes on me. Without swallowing I motion with my chin at Shay and Lavender. "You got something you want to say?"

Shay looks down at his feet and says nothing. Lavender looks for a moment like she might say something, but a second later her eyes fall to the floor as well. I roll my eyes, it's not like it's a loss to me not to hear whatever stupid comment she was going to make.

"It's about time to head down. Where's Phoebe?"

"Probably in her room putting on makeup or some shit," I say before stuffing another roll into my mouth. It's just as well that no one else seems to have any appetite, more for me.

Our mentor heads off into the hallway of bedrooms, presumably to find her. Shay and Lavender's eyes follow him until he disappears, and then simultaneously fall back down to the ground.

"What's eating you two?" I ask, half-wanting an answer and half just wanting to fill the silence. Not sure why everyone has chosen today of all days to stop the chattering and bickering that's been plaguing out apartment since the first day we got here. I would have much more appreciated the silence on those few nights when I was trying to get sleep to take me a few hours early.

"I think the question is what's eating you," Lavender says back, almost none of the usual sass in her words.

"I'll bite," I shrug. "The hell do you mean?"

"It's launch day," she says simply, and for the first time I finally notice the trembling in her hands as she moves her fork back and forth across her plate. It's not that I forgot that today was the day the Hunger Games officially started, it's just that I forgot it was a big deal for some of us.

"Really?" I say, creasing my forehead in mock confusion. "Didn't have a clue."

"Don't be a smartass," she says, but still none of her usual attitude is behind the words. "Some of us actually have people we care about waiting for us back in Seven. Just because you have nothing to lose doesn't mean we don't."

The words hit me harder than expected. In more ways than she could guess, my young district partner hit the mole on the head with that one. I really don't have much I can honestly say that I'm scared of losing. I'm not nervous about today, but I previously attributed that to being confident in my ability to win. Maybe my lack of nerves is because of something else entirely.

"Alright kids, follow me." I turn and see Phoebe standing with our mentor at one side of the room. Without giving him an answer, the three of us stand from the table and move towards him. I leave the half-eaten roll on my plate, suddenly not as hungry as I was before.

After a few minutes of walking and a quick elevator ride, we arrive at what I can only assume to be the roof of the Training Centre. In front of us are two huge hovercrafts that look exactly like ones I have seen flying over Seven, but much bigger than I would have thought.

A parade of Peacekeepers are waiting outside the elevator, one taking each of me and my district partners by the shoulders. Our mentor is gone before I can even pinpoint where he disappeared to, which is just as well because I had nothing more to say to him.

As the Peacekeeper begins to lead me away from the other three, I call over my shoulder. "Be good kiddos, I'll see you in a few hours."

I am led towards one of the huge machines and up the ramp that will bring me to its interior. The only emotion I can feel right now is awe at the mechanics of the thing. I can't stop thinking about how amazing it is that this giant hunk of metal is able to fly. It's a mundane series of thoughts, but it's probably better than what most of the tributes are thinking about right now.

As I step into the craft with the ringing of metal beneath my feet, I see that I am not the first tribute to be loaded into the giant machine. Already there are at least ten others inside, arranged in what looks to be a random seating order.

I let the Peacekeeper lead me towards the front area, letting out a heavy sigh as he seats me next to the female Career from District Two with the brown hair. It could be worse, I guess. Her district partner, Arnette I believe her name was, looks like much more of a handful than this one.

Directly across from me is the young boy from Three, his entire body trembling against his restraints. I am unable to tear my eyes off of him all the while the Peacekeeper straps me into my seat. I'm too distracted to even struggle against his hard grip.

More and more tributes come onto the hovercraft, including Lavender who is placed in a seat too far from me for me to even attempt to catch her eye.

The one scene that really catches my eye is when the littlest tribute, the twelve year old girl from District Eleven, is brought onto the hovercraft. As she passes by the boy from Three, her hand reaches out and squeezes his, and I swear that the soft reassurance she whispers to him in that moment before the Peacekeeper rips her away from him is the most innocent thing I have ever witnessed.

For a second I wonder what it would be like to meet someone, even in the fleeting moments before a death match, who cared about me like that. I force myself to look out the window until the brief moment passes.

* * *

**Braden Kellis, 18, District Two**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

I shift uncomfortably as the straps holding me in my seat dig into my chest. I try to lift my arms, but find those are quite restricted as well. Really the only thing I can move is my head, but I guess that makes sense. The Capitol wouldn't want anyone getting hurt before they even get into the arena, no, that would ruin the show.

Surprisingly, I'm not as nervous as I thought I would be. I mean the Games are starting in a few short hours, and the only thing I feel is a vague uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm not freaking out like some of the other tributes appear to be, and I guess that just calms me down even more.

I'm more prepared than most of the people going into this, and I've got a good set of allies standing behind me. That, and I killed the Kill Zone and pulled in a decent training score to go with it.

I've never been an overly confident guy, but I honestly believe I have a real shot in this. There's way more tributes than usual, which most people would see as a disadvantage, but to me it's a huge advantage.

More people means more early deaths, which will cut the playing field down early, and with double the amount of careers as usual, as long as I stay out of the way, the careers will probably be among the first to go.

The bloodbath is going to live up to it's namesake no doubt. There are going to be a lot of deaths, and with two career alliances, it's safe to assume there will be some career deaths.

Hopefully District One goes down easy. I mean honestly they're not that strong. Who even is Glint? He's probably the most forgotten career, and Dierdre, well there's nothing much to say about her. She pretty much ruined her chances when she ran off stage sick during her interview.

Jasper and Raleigh are too arrogant to be any sort of real threat. Jasper thinks he's better, and smarter than everyone here, but little does he know he's just as big of an idiot as Raleigh. And speaking of her, her training score and Kill Zone placement are pathetic, and I can't remember seeing her pick up a weapon once during training.

Zaria's the only real threat among that alliance. She beat me in Kill Zone, and she's got this intimidating aura around her that makes me think she wouldn't hesitate to lodge one of her knives in anyone's throat.

"Ready?" Ebba whispers as the hovercraft begins to shake as it prepares for take off.

I nod. "Remember the plan."

Arnette shushes us before another word can be said, motioning across the isle to where Raleigh and Glint both sit, smirking at the trio of us.

"Ready to die?" Arnette mocks, tilting her head slightly to the side, a smile on her face that even sends shivers down my spine.

Glint shifts uncomfortably, but Raleigh just let's out a loud chuckle, winking at Arnette in response.

If the plan goes right, we won't have to worry about any of them after the bloodbath. Arnette is the biggest hot head on the face of the planet, but I have to give her this one. It's simple, yet genius. At first, we were just going to specifically target Raleigh and Jasper, because those two are the clear leaders of the group. But leaving Zaria is too much of a wild card, and Dierdre with her bow is still something worth losing sleep over, so instead Arnette launched a new plan.

When the gong sounds, Arnette is to take out Dierdre as soon as possible, and Eden is to take out Glint. The rest of of us are supposed to stick together and keep the other three busy, until Eden and Arnette are done.

By then it'll be three on five, and all we need to do is separate them and our numbers will overpower them and the whole alliance will be eliminated, leaving us to take out the rest of the field and the victor will no doubt be from our alliance, hopefully myself.

Ebba let's out a small cough as the hovercraft takes to the sky, and I'm reminded that in order for me to win, she must die.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm flying who knows how fast and who knows how high from the ground, or maybe it's the thought of Ebba dying, but the vague feeling in the pit of my stomach begins to grow until it actually begins to hurt.

I've grown close to Ebba, way too close for my own good. But there's just something about the crazy girl that draws me in, and makes me want to stay close to her.

It's not sexual, or even romantic, she's just a friend, but I've never felt this close to any of my friends back home.

I was always the one they came to with problems, and I was always the one to settle arguments, but I never felt comfortable going to any of them with my problems, or even really talking to them about myself.

It was always about them, and I was ok with that. But with Ebba, it's different. I want to talk to her, and I want her to know about me just as much as I want to know about her.

She knows things about me I've never told anyone, and I think I could recite her whole life story which as much detail as I could my own.

We just clicked, and perhaps it's our situation. Perhaps our impending possible doom has left us with a hint of desperation that makes us that much more compatible, but honestly I don't really care.

Ebba keeps all thoughts of my family on the back burner, and comforts me when all I can think about is my girlfriend Maggie from back home.

I look over at Ebba, and see that her fingers are viciously tapping at her leg, a sign I've come to know means that Ebba is excited about something. And I know what she's excited for - the Games.

She's an adrenaline junkie through and through, and the Games will give her the biggest rush of her life.

I just hope she's around long enough to experience it.

And I also hope that when the time comes, Ebba is satisfied, because while Ebba has become something to me, I'll never in a million years consider sacrificing myself, and my life for a girl I just met.

No matter how great she is.

* * *

**Savvy McCreevy, 15, District Three**

**Acereader55**

* * *

This ride has been taking way too long.

It feels like we've been on this stupid hovercraft for centuries, and it sucks even more that I can't see where the hell we are going. It's important to me to see where we're going because I want some sort of clue as to what type of environment I'll be in for what could be the last days of my life. I want to know exactly where I could be dying.

I look around the Hovercraft again and I see that everyone has nervous written all over their faces. Nobody is feeling confident, especially when you don't even know what you're headed into. Nobody knows what we are going to be thrown into, and despite the Careers being trained, there's only so much that they can learn and soak up. Soon, it all comes down to their skill and how they adapt, and really they're on an even playing field with all of us during the Bloodbath because the terrain is unfamiliar to them.

Unfortunately, I got stuck on a Hovercraft with not a single one of my allies on it. Actually, scratch that. Not a single one of my allies that I _trust_on this hovercraft. Matilda is on the other side of the hovercraft, sending sickly sweet smiles over my way whenever our eyes meet. The girl has no idea that I know she's poison and isn't worth my time.

Hopefully Maelle and me can overcome her manipulation and evil strategic ways and defeat her with the plan that we came up with. It's imperative that we find each other quickly in the Bloodbath and get a solid weapon, because if we don't then the plan is completely screwed and Matilda will most likely slice Maelle up into little bits, literally.

The other variable is Corlis. Would Corlis side with Matilda in the heat of the moment? Or would she side with the side that has more numbers? And if we were successful in killing Matilda, would Corlis still want to be our ally after we just slaughtered one in front of her own eyes?

Corlis is a sweet girl, albeit a little naïve, but I worry that if we kill our ally and she watches us do it, she'll no longer trust us and then it's just me and Maelle all alone, which could get very tricky, especially with the amount of careers that are in the Games this time around. Every number that you have counts, and it's imperative that we are able to stay in tact so that we are not susceptible to being overtaken by a larger alliance once we enter the Games.

The ride begins to get even more bumpy, and I quickly come to the realization that we are landing. One step closer to entering the arena where it all comes down to me and my allies. Can we overcome the elements of the arena and survive? Can we even manage to not get slaughtered immediately in the Bloodbath by the Careers or some other large alliance? Will we even remain an in tact alliance during the Bloodbath? There's so many variables that are going to take place and it's making my head spin.

The Hovercraft suddenly ceases to move altogether and people let out audible sighs of relief that they have landed and they are safely on the ground once again. The door to the Hovercraft is let down, and it hits the steel floor with a clang that it so loud it makes my head spin. Peacekeepers flock all around the exit to the hovercraft to ensure that they don't have any runners, and one of the ladies that escorted us onto the hovercraft comes back into it and begins to release the straps that contained us in our seats.

When she reaches me, she releases the straps containing me to my seat and calls out to several peacekeepers who march over to me in an orderly fashion, and immediately surround me.

"You know where to take her." The woman's voice is short and precise, and the Peacekeepers immediately begin to march down the ramp and onto the steel floor. One Peacekeeper that stands behind me puts his hand on the small of my back to make sure that I keep moving in the same direction that they are moving in.

Personally, I don't see the need to completely surround me with peacekeepers. At this point, trying to run would just be idiotic as you're completely surrounded my Capitol people and you're in an unfamiliar environment which means you'd have no idea where to escape to. Only a fool would try to run at this stage. If you want escape now, the only way to accomplish that is to win.

The Peacekeepers eventually come to a halt in front of a metal door and I also stop before I crash into the back of one of the Peacekeepers who are up front. One of the ones that are in the front puts their hand on some sort of scanner, and the light above the door turns from red to green.

The metal door slides open and I am escorted inside, into a room with my stylist who waves at me excitedly. Oh great, I have to deal with this idiot again.

Despite everything that I've been thrown, I'm still confident that I can do this. I'm creative, wily, and I certainly know how to survive on my own. I've survived my whole life in poverty and there's no way I'm about to stop surviving just because I'm in a new environment. I will never stop surviving so long as I'm still breathing.

It only takes one more breath than the next person to win, and Panem knows I will do whatever it takes to survive.

Even if it means losing a part of me to the arena.

* * *

**Raleigh Torrance, 18, District One**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

I'm not exactly sure things have gone as I planned, but regardless I can't complain about the situation I've put myself in.

Heading into the Games, my goal was to come off as the weak link; the nice career that had no business being here, the average ditsy blonde from One.

I'm definitely seen as the weak link, but I'm afraid my fellow careers aren't as stupid as I hoped they'd be. I'm afraid some of them have seen through my nice girl act, and begun to truly see how much of a bitch I can be.

I guess it can all be blamed on Arnette. The girl infuriates me, making it hard for me to keep my cool. My bitchy side comes out whenever she's around, and it takes everything in me not to punch the shit out of her. Luckily, I won't have to wait that much longer until I'll get the chance.

My thoughts are interrupted by my stylist hurriedly coming into the small room, a large black bag in his hand.

"Raleigh! Today's the day, how are we feeling?" he squeals, wrapping me in a tight hug.

I step back before answering. "I'm excited, but a little disappointed if I'm being honest. I thought this room would be bigger, or better, or something? After all this could be the last room I ever see."

My escort smirks, and I can't help but smirk back. We both know very well this won't be the last room I'll ever see. It will be for how ever long these Games take, but I'll be back, I have to be.

There's no other option. Winning is must, and I believe I've set myself up quite well to do just that. To prove to everyone that the ditzy girl from One with the low training score isn't the weak link. I'm not the controlled one. I'm not Jasper's puppy, in fact he's mine. I'm the one in control here, and I can't wait to see the look on everyone's face when they realize it.

Of course they'll be dead, but I can certainly imagine their surprise.

Jetley unzips the large black bag he'd carried in, and reveals a single piece of material that could questionably cover up the top half of my body.

"What is that?" I deadpan, and Jetley looks equally as confused.

"Apparently this is your arena outfit, but I think there must have been some sort of mistake."

I rip the material out of his hands, knowing that this is the Capitol, and the Capitol didn't make mistakes.

I turn to the small bathroom that is provided in this ridiculously small room, and shut the door, slipping out of my clothes.

I like Jetley for several reasons, but perhaps the most important is that he never pries. He hasn't seen me naked once, and hasn't touched my anywhere he shouldn't. He trusts me to dress myself, and only fixes my mistakes after I'm fully clothed.

Jasper had told me about his stylist insisting she dress him, and how she had even on occasion 'accidentally' touched him in places someone of her age should never touch. The thought disgusted me, but also made me that much more thankful for Jetley.

After slipping into the outfit, I realize it does cover the necessary parts of my body. It's something of a jumpsuit, but it's skin tight, leaving very little room for the imagination.

It's low-cut around my chest, and the material ends way to far up my thighs for me to be comfortable. It's almost like a bathing suit, which concerns me that there might be water in the arena.

A thought suddenly occurs to me as I'm staring down at the skin tight material. If the boys are wearing a similar outfit, and tradition says they will, their body will be a little bit more defined around certain parts, especially if they get a look some of the girls in their skin tight outfits.

These Games may be a lot funnier than I thought they'd be.

I step out of the room, and am met with horrified look from Jetley.

"That's it? They mines well have sent you in naked!"

Again the thought of the male tributes running around trying to keep themselves together as they look at all the naked girls goes through my head, and I chuckle once again.

"There's not even any damn shoes," Jetley complains, tossing the bag to the floor and crossing his arms. I look down at my bare feet and notice for the first time that there hadn't been any shoes provided, reinforcing the idea that the arena might just be one giant swimming pool. Which wouldn't be good for me, considering I can't swim.

Jetley begins to circle me, and I wince as he tries to sketch the material, but it ends up just smacking back against my skin.

"There's no protections from anything, no warmth, no water protection. It's the simplest thing they could have gave you."

Weirdly enough I'm reassured when he says there's no water protection. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe the Capitol just wants to see their tributes dressed in as little as possible. Really it's not surprising.

Jetley sighs, before backing away from me and throwing himself on the single couch they provided us. He looks defeated and disappointed, and I'm not sure why. It's not like he's the one going into the arena wearing this ridiculous outfit.

"It won't be rocky, or anything like that. Sand maybe, or grass, they can't have anything sharp or they would have had to give you shoes."

I nod, agreeing with what he says.

"It won't be cold, clearly, but honestly Raleigh that's all I can give you."

I nod again, not really concerned with what the arena will be. It won't be anything extravagant, because that'd take away form the tributes, and the twist already made sure there were lots of us to focus on.

More than likely it'll be a simple arena, leaving plenty of opportunity for the bloody fights that'll surely happen.

Or maybe I'm wrong, maybe it'll be the most complex arena the Capitol has ever seen.

Yeah right, I laugh, I doubt that.

* * *

**Winifred Herring, 12, District Eleven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I don't even realize that I am pulling at my collar until my stylist offers to unzip it a little for me. I blush and shake my head, knowing that the outfit is not the thing that is making me uncomfortable at all.

"Suit yourself," he says with a nod, returning his gaze to examining his nails. I feel bad for making him feel so uncomfortable, but unlike all the other times I have spent with Alvin, I just don't have the ability to keep up a conversation.

"Do you need anything?" He says a moment later, the sad smile on his face making my heart break for maybe the tenth time this morning. "We still have a while to wait. I could ask them to bring down some soup, any kind you'd like?"

"I'm not hungry," I say softly. "Thank you, though."

The silence falls back over the room until another moment later Alvin sighs. "There's no avoiding what's about to happen, so I might as well prepare you for what might be."

I harden my face in preparation, half-wondering and half-dreading what he means. I remember the same words coming from Leon last night. He said there was no use in delaying the inevitable, and asked me if there was any messages I would like him to relay back to my family. I know everyone means well by putting off the difficult conversations, but I wish they hadn't. Maybe then I wouldn't have to deal with this whirlwind of emotion all at once.

"The pants and vest are waterproof," he says, pointing to the thick beige pants and camouflage patterned vest. "I think you can guess that so are the boots. Make sure to keep your pants tucked into your socks and then slide the boots on overtop, just the way I have it. It'll keep you dry. I'd expect the terrain to be mushy if they're giving you all this."

I look down at my outfit- a thick black hoodie with a tight, camouflage vest sealed overtop. Beige pants that feel twice as heavy as anything I have ever worn, all tucked into a pair of rubber boots that stop just a half inch below my knee. Everything is fit perfectly to my body, and for the first while after I put it on it felt like it was weighing down on me. I think I'm getting used to it, as long as I don't look in the mirror.

That has been by far the most difficult part of being down here with Alvin. The giant mirror that takes over half of the far wall. When I saw myself in the arena outfit for the first time, my hair sealed into two pigtails that stem out from just below my ears, I started to cry almost immediately.

I don't look like wild-haired, snarky Winnie that I came here as. She's nowhere in that girl in the mirror. I don't think I'll ever get her back. Now I only have this teary-eyed, straight-backed version. I don't know how to feel about her yet, but maybe she's better prepared for what's about to happen. The old Winnie wouldn't have a clue what to do in the arena. I can only hope this one does.

"Oh I almost forgot," Alvin says, breaking off my train of thought before I can delve too deeply into my thoughts. He gets up and walks over to his jacket which is hung by the collar on the hook by the door. After fiddling with one of the inside pockets for a while he comes back and places a small box in my hands. "This is yours."

I give him a confused look but he just smiles and motions down at the box. I pry open the lid and my breath catches in my throat when I see it. It's the locket with my mother's picture that Ms Parsons gave me before I left after the Reaping. I had almost forgotten about it completely, after fidgeting with it for too long on the train had caused the chain to break.

I lift it up out of the box and stare at it. I can't believe how beautiful it is, I hardly recognize the locket at all. The outside has been cleaned and shines like it's brand new, Alvin even managed to fix the original chain it came with. I get up and wrap my arms around his tightly. Alvin gasps, but I feel his arms envelop me a second later.

"Thank you so much, Alvin, it's even more beautiful than I remember."

"I had hoped you'd think so," he whispers.

We stand there for a while longer, the warmth of the hug all but dissolving the stress I'd been feeling. I had forgotten how nice it feels to have moments like this. There haven't been many for a lot of my life, even before I was reaped. After a while I finally let him go, my face heating up. I'm afraid that I might have made him uncomfortable.

One look at his face tells me I have no reason to worry.

"You're going to do great, Winnie, just stick with that boy," Alvin says with a smile. "I've got good instincts, and they tell me he has a good heart."

"He does," I agree. Thinking about Toby makes the nerves hit a little harder. I know he's terrified, even more so than I am. It's kind of been said without words that I'm going to have to take charge to make sure we're both okay. I hope I don't disappoint him.

As long as Toby's with me, I think I'll be okay.

* * *

**Eden Ares, 18, District Two**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"Your pacing is making my head spin, could you _please _sit down," Illiana says, dramatically fanning her face.

I give her a look but take a seat at the table anyway, not quite in the mood for arguing with her today. It's already a struggle to stay calm and I think if I start arguing there is a good chance I'll either end up screaming or crying. Honestly, neither of those actions would do much to prepare me for what's about to happen.

I look down at the plate of vegetables and bread that was brought down for me earlier, knowing that I need to eat something but also having no appetite at all. It's confusing and frustrating, knowing what I should be doing and not being able to make my body do it. With the Games so close to beginning, this is definitely not the time to be nervous. I've trained for this. I am ready for this. I know what to do; I just have to do it.

I decide it's probably just a mind over matter type of situation and shove a bit of bread into my mouth, forcing myself to chew and swallow. My stomach protests but I do my best to ignore it, this time taking one of the vegetables. I do this for a few more bites before my body forces me to stop. My stomach churns and a second later I am leaning over the garbage bin by the door.

I guess it's not such a simple mind game.

I slide down to the floor by the door, my body feeling too weak to make it back over to the chair. I know that I'm being ridiculous. I'm not sick, I'm just nervous even though I have no logical reason to be. I just have to snap myself out of this, but I'm running out of time. One glance at the clock tells me I have less than three minutes until I'll have to get in the launching tube.

One thought stands out in my mind, no matter what I do to counter it. I'm not ready.

But I am?

I sigh and bury my head in my hands. What is wrong with me?

"Oh my goodness, Eden, get off the floor," Illiana shrieks, standing from her chair and rushing over to pull me up by the arm. "You're going to ruin your outfit."

I sigh, but once again I'm not in the state of mind to argue. I allow her to lead me over to the chair and I sink back into it.

I just have to concentrate. I play back what Illiana told me earlier about the outfit. Waterproof, expect a lot of weather. Not terribly warm, so expect climate to be mild. Outdoors is almost definite. I try to form a mental image of what I should expect when our tubes rise so that I'm not surprised.

I remember watching a Games where the arena was a giant rainforest, but their outfits were closer to swim wear. Nothing like the camouflage vest and thick khakis that I have been dressed in. Not to mention that I don't think that Games was too long ago. They wouldn't reuse an arena so quickly.

Safe to say it won't be a rainforest, but that doesn't help me to say what it will be.

I smile and sigh. I was right, it does feel better to concentrate on the facts of what I have to do. My training doesn't include how I am supposed to feel about things, so I just have to ignore that stuff. I am ready for this. I know I am.

"One minute to launch," a mechanical voice echoes through the room, forcing me to jump out of my thoughts and back into reality. "Tributes, please enter the launch tubes."

I stand immediately, somewhat surprised at how sturdy my legs feel beneath me as opposed to before. As I begin walking towards the corner of the room where the tube is set up, I recognize the nervousness fighting its way back into my body.

I turn my thoughts back to arena, going back over the past few years and mentally crossing them out as likely possibilities. I'm still nowhere close to figuring it out, but at least it seems to be helping to calm my nerves. That is the main objective right now anyway.

Illiana presses a button on the wall beside the tube and the doors slide open. I take a deep breath and take one step inside as the countdown begins to come from the speakers. Twenty seconds until launching. I put my other foot inside and turn around to face my stylist just as the doors close around me.

It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the tube, and for a second I feel as though I can't breathe. My eyes widen, but I remind myself not to panic. I am protected right now. They need their tributes, especially me as a Career. There is no way they would let me die in here before the Games even begin.

The thoughts should calm me but don't. As the tubes begins to move upward, the feeling of suffocation sets in even more strongly. I clasp my hands over my mouth, willing my body to breathe even as it tells me that there is no air to do so.

Finally I suck in a deep breath of air just as the world goes dark around me. I can still feel the tube rising underneath my feet, and I focus my attention on that feeling. The darkness feels thick around me, and I reach out to touch the walls of the tube just to be sure that they are still there.

Then suddenly the tube stops rising, but the darkness isn't broken. I tell myself to stay calm, reminding myself over and over that I am safe. Seconds, maybe minutes go by and the stillness sets in around me. I can hear nothing but the sound of my own breathing, the sense of calm I had achieved dissolving into the darkness around me.

* * *

**Song: I Lived by One Republic.**

* * *

**A/N: Aye it's Ollie, because no one else seems to write these things. **

**Alright well this is it, the Capitol chapters are finally over and we're moving into the arena. It's been a long ride but we're glad at least a few of you are still with us. When tributes start falling next chapter we expect the reader count to go down (not that we want it to, it's just a fact) so we'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who submitted, reviewed, or even just read. Hopefully you enjoyed it so far!**

**I honestly don't know what else to say.**

**Okay how about all of you should review this last Capitol chapter? That sounds nice. One last shot to get in our good books before we start the slaughtering? Maybe. Well I'll leave a few questions down below just in case you feel like leaving us some words. **

_**What did you think of the tributes in these POVs? Have your opinions of them changed at all?**_

_**Who do you think will be dying next chapter? Who do you think will be killing? **_

_**How did you find the Capitol as a whole? Be honest!**_

* * *

**That's it, I'm done. **


	13. Paradise

**Dark Paradise by Lana Del Ray**

_Every time I close my eyes,_

_It's like a Dark Paradise._

* * *

**Matilda Prescott, 18, District Nine**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

The light is blinding, but I feel my plate click into place as my stomach does another flip.

It's happening. There's no going back now. It's here, and in a weird sense, I'm glad. No more waiting, no more pretending. I can finally do whatever I want, and show the Capitol just how big of a threat I am.

It takes only a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, and as soon as they do I see nothing but trees. As far as I can see behind me there are trees, and not mush else. And in front of me there is nothing but a small clearing surrounded by a large black wall.

The clearing is small, and instead of grass the ground is covered in sand. There is no cornucopia, instead just a meagre pile of supplies near where the two giant black walls meet, creating a corner of sorts.

I look to my left to see the blonde from One, and to my right is the red-headed girl from Eight. Two of the bigger competitors in the Games, but right now both their heads are whipping from side to side, a mixture of panic and confusion written all over their face.

I look down the line and am surprised to see that on both sides the tribute circle ends only a few tributes down from the girls beside me.

I begin to feel the panic as I quickly scan the faces and don't spot Corlis, or any of my other allies.

I look behind me, and again see nothing but the same trees I'd seen before. No sign of the missing tributes, but they have to be here somewhere. They have to be. I can't be alone, I can't leave Corlis on her own or ever worse, with Maelle.

I whip my head back around and see that only ten seconds remain on the countdown that is being projected onto the large black walls.

The panic sets in again, and I begin to shake harder than ever, silent tears falling down my face.

"Corlis?" I scream out, but it's drowned out by the sound of the gong sounding.

Me bare feet react without thinking as I sprint to the line of hiking boots that sit not too far from the plates. I grab the closest pair to me and fling them over my shoulder, eyes scanning for any other supplies.

I look to my left to see two tributes already locked in battle. I recognize the trident and dreadlocks of the girl from District Four, and the tan skin and smug look of the boy from District Ten.

The metallic clank of the spear and trident colliding rings out as the two fiercely battle, and I am suddenly entranced by the fight. This'll more than likely result in the first death of the Games, and the first murder I'll ever witness.

I know how much danger I'm in, but I can't look away.

I watch as Ebba almost seems to be toying with Hunter, pushing him back closer and closer towards the wall. Hunter is strong, and he received a good score, but Ebba is a career who has clearly being wielding that trident for the majority of her life.

He's no match, and he seems to realize it. His eyes are wide as he desperately tries to counter her attacks, but it's not fear I see in his eyes. It's shame. I'd heard him around the training centre, always going on about how awesome he was, so I can understand what he's embarrassed about; being among the first to fall.

But he doesn't quit. He keeps pressing as the desperation becomes clear on his face. But still, it's not enough. Ebba seemingly gets bored, smacking Hunter upside the head with the butt end of her trident, before quickly and cleaning skewering his neck, successfully making the first kill of the Game.

Weirdly I don't feel anything but utter fascination. One second he was alive, and the next he's just gone. I know it's messed, but look where I am, I really could care less.

I hear more fighting begin around me, but I've had my fill of death already. I glance to the side and see a backpack sitting not that far away. Again without hesitation my feet take off towards the backpack, and it's only a matter of seconds before I'm heaving it onto my back and taking off in the other direction.

As I'm making my great escape I cross paths with the little boy from Three, but I quickly dodge out of his path before watching him disappear behind the tree line.

I can't help but smile, happy knowing that the cute little kid made it out alive.

But the feeling is short lived, because as soon as I break through the tree line I hear the heavy footsteps of someone running behind me.

I glance over my shoulder and feel the panic all over again as I make eye contact with Ebba, trident in hand and backpack slung over her shoulder.

I turn back around and push hard, pumping my legs as fast as they'll take me, and surprisingly I make ground on her. I glance back again and see her quite a bit back, but I also notice the blood dripping down her leg and the obvious limp in her step.

I send a quick silent thank you to whoever injured her, and continuing pumping until she's completely out of sight. And even then I don't stop, not until my lungs cannot take anymore and I practically fall to the ground gasping for air that I can't seem to get enough of.

I have no idea how long it is that I lay there for, on the sand floor panting for air, but I finally get up to the sound of the cannons.

I don't count how many there is, because only one thought runs through my mind as each cannon passes.

What if one of them belongs to Corlis?

* * *

**Lavender Vargas, 14, District Seven**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

As soon as the gong sounds, I run. I don't look where I'm going, or pay any attention to anything other than the backpack that sits not far off from my plate.

I hear the fighting start beside me, but I don't pay it any attention. If someone was to attack me right now, I'd be dead anyways, so I don't need to focus on anything but arming myself and getting a pair of those stupid boots they refused to give us before the bloodbath.

I reach the backpack and find myself speeding past it as I throw it onto my back. My eyes catch sight of one of those small bows that I'd seen in the Capitol, and though I've never used one I figure there can't be much to it, so I pump my legs as fast i can until I reach the already loaded bow.

I notice to my left there is a large black crate covered in supplies and throw myself behind it for cover. Behind me is the giant black wall, and on the other side is the forest, the only thing separating me from it is the other tributes, who happen to be lacking in numbers.

I'm not sure if I got hit in the head somewhere along the line, but I thought the twist said there were more tributes in the Games, not less? I counted ten of us in this area, which means only a third of use are in the arena. Or the others are somewhere else in the arena. Who knows?

I peak around the create and see the back of a body already laying on the ground. It couldn't have been more than a minute since the gong sounded, and already some fool has bitten the dust.

I wonder where Hunter is? I specifically remember him being among the ten of us that were here. My eyes scan the fighting tributes, but for some reason I can't find the fool.

I curse under my breath. If that little shit left me I swear I'll hunt him down and cut his balls off. We were supposed to meet up and gather supplies, and then flee, but I guess he had another agenda in mind.

I look back to the body, wondering which of the ten faces I saw earlier it belonged to. The frame tells me a male, and the height eliminates the boy from District Three. Which means either a career is already dead or... My breath catches in my throat, and there's suddenly a horrible feeling in my stomach.

I ready the bow and creep around the far side of the crate and along the giant wall until I reach the body, staying out of sight of the other fighting tributes.

I'm startled by a scream, and instinctively dive behind another crate. After a few moments, I peer over the top of the crate and see that Raleigh and Jasper have the curly-haired girl from Five corner.

Aluma is her name, soon to be was. I watch in terror as Raleigh kicks her in the gut with a viciousness I've never seen her poses, before punching her abruptly in the temple. The girl falls to the ground hard, but Raleigh doesn't let her stay down for long. She grabs the girl by the back of her head, and slams it forcefully against the wall, causing blood to start pouring from her nose, a disgusting sound gurgling from her mouth.

Raleigh let's the girl slump to the ground, and gives her one final kick before looking and Jasper and pointing at the limp girl.

In one single motion Jasper sends the rapier through the girls chest, and then quickly pulls it out, before casually walking away to find another victim.

The feeling in my stomach grows worse, but I face away from the bloody girl and continue on my trek to the dead body, careful in making sure no one notices me creeping along.

There are only a few tributes left at the scene, the two from One, and the boy from Two who they seem to chasing, and that's all I can see. The supplies are picked over, and I only see Aluma's body lying on the ground.

When I finally reach the second body, I take a deep breath before rolling it over. Instantly I wish I hadn't.

Hunter's usual smug looks is contorted into a look of pure pain, and the gaping whole in his neck still oozes blood.

I let out a shrill scream, which is quickly cut off by this mornings breakfast making an appearance. I feel disgusted with myself as I look down at my own throw-up covering my allies dead body, but the feeling is soon replaced by fear as I realize I have just made myself a huge target.

I begin to look up, but am suddenly taken off my feet and slammed into the wall, my head bouncing off causing me to feel dizzy and temporarily lose my vision.

When it does come back, I look up and see the distinct red hair that can belong to only one tribute that I remember seeing before the gong sounded.

The District Eight girl looks down at me, her face completely void of any emotion.

"Please.." I beg, the tears beginning to stroll down my face. Her facial expression doesn't change, but she does slowly shake her head.

I reach for the bow, but I realize it has slid just out of my reach. It was a stupid decision to grab it anyways. If I had just stuck with something simple like a knife, I would still have a fighting chance. But I'm dead. I have no chance against Avrie, especially weaponless.

The tears begin to stream down my face as I realize this is the end.

"I didn't mean it Mom, I swear."

They're cliche last words, and I know they must make me sound pathetic. But I just need my mom to know that I loved her, and while she was a crazy bitch, she was my mom, and every child needs their mother.

Avrie doesn't waste anymore time, quickly slicing her blade across my throat before I hear her light footsteps running away.

I begin to feel the blood pouring out from my neck, but a few seconds later I lose feeling in my neck, and then the rest of my body.

Perhaps death isn't so bad.

* * *

**Ebba Farley, 18, District Four **

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

I lose sight of the blonde-girl rather quickly, my injured leg and my weak lungs making me no match for the girls long legs.

I can't believe that bitch from One caught me, who knew she could actually wield those knives of hers.

After realizing me and Braden were on our own, we quickly hatched a plan to still take out Raleigh and Jasper, so that when we found the others we wouldn't have to worry about them anymore.

It was quite similar to our other plan; Braden was to distract Jasper, and I was to kill Raleigh. But it didn't quite go as planned. We separated them, but Raleigh took me by surprise when she began defending off my attacks with her two simple knives. And she took me by even more surprise when she managed to stab me with one of them through my leg.

The pain erupted, more than I thought it should, sending me to the ground with a loud thud. Luckily another tribute took the time to try and gather some supplies, and Raleigh got distracted and chased after them.

I managed to stand myself up, and collect my trident, but my leg felt like it was literally on fire, and I knew it was my time to get out of there.

I saw that Braden was still locked in battle with Jasper, and I knew that when Raleigh refocused herself she'd be over there helping him, and Braden would be goner.

He was cool and all, but emotional attachments were certainly not my thing, and I sure wasn't ready to die yet.

So I ran, and I don't think he saw me, but if he did he didn't call out for me.

As I was leaving I spotted the girl from Nine and began chase, but that didn't last long.

The pain in my leg quickly becomes unbearable, and I'm forced to take a rest. I lean myself up against the base of a tree, and inspect my inured leg.

It's just a small incision, but it feels as if there is a gaping hole in the side of my leg. It burns like crazy, and there are small blisters beginning to form around the edges of the cut. I know instantly that that isn't normal, and I begin to curse as I list of all the possible things Raleigh could have dipped her knife in.

Poison? Who would have thought that not only does the girl know how to use those blades of hers, but that she's smart enough to dip them in some sort of chemical? Perhaps there's more to the girl than I thought. I mean everyone knew she wasn't some open book, but at least I never expected this out of her.

Well played Raleigh, well played.

I attempt to ignore the pain, realizing I neglected to gather any other supplies at the bloodbath other than my trident. I didn't even think to grab a pair of those boots they had so nicely laid out for us.

I begin to pick at the ridiculously tight outfit they had dressed us in, attempting to stretch it out around my stomach.

I have never been the skinniest girl, and this outfit just brings that fact to light. It's hard to concentrate on anything else but my protruding stomach and thighs. I'm not self-conscious, but come on? Highlighting my imperfections for all of Panem to see? Fuck you!

"I could really use a little something right now, if someone wouldn't mind?" I yell to the sky, but of course I get no response. Who would want to sponsor the fat and ugly girl when they could sponsor the skinny pretty girl who injured her?

I know I'm not a favourite, which is why I need to find the last of my remaining allies. Where the fuck are they? The Capitol probably just loves this, setting us up in different parts of the arena and forcing us to find each other. It's smart really. It makes the tributes have to move around, as opposed to camping out in some hideout, but it just pisses me off, because now I'm on my own, injured, and Raleigh and Jasper are still out there.

All I can do is hope that Arnette, Eden, and Atlas all are alive and together, and have taken out the rest of the other career alliance.

They have to be in the arena somewhere right? There's no other option, unless they're coming in after there's only one of us left or something like that. No that's dumb, they wouldn't do that.

They're here somewhere, I just have to find them.

I grab my trident, and use it to pull myself up. But as soon as I'm on my feet I lose my vision, and my head begins to spin. I use the trident to steady myself, and a few moments later my vision returns. For the most part.

It's still a little blurry, and I feel uneasy, but I manage a few steps before I trip on a root and go flying to the forest floor.

I manage to roll myself onto my back before I feel like I've exhausted all my energy, and my eyelids begin to droop.

A quick nap won't hurt anything right? I'll just close my eyes for a second, and then ill wake up and find Arnette, and Eden, and Atlas and we'll hunt down the remaining tributes and it'll all be one big adrenaline rush.

And when it's over I'll be able to go home and see my friends, and relax, and buy all the weed I want because I'll be rich and won't have to worry about a thing in the world.

I open my eyes again and see that's it's been sometime since I shut them. The sun is beginning to go down, and the air is beginning to cool off, sending a chill down my spine.

The pain in my leg has numbed, but my whole body feels nothing but exhaustion. I need to sleep, and without another thought, my eyes close again and I fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

**Maelle Thurske, 18, District Three**

**Acereader55**

* * *

My eyes are still trying to adjust to the new lighting as my plate clicks itself into place.

Once my eyes finally adjust to the newfound lighting in the room I am now in, I begin to whip my head around frantically, trying to make sense of what's going on and what my surroundings are.

The first thing I notice is that straight ahead is brown rocks piled up on top of each other, making for a very uneven surface. No wonder they gave me these hiking boots to wear. I also notice that past some of the tributes in front of me, there seems to be some dead trees on the horizon.

Before I can look at the scenery any longer, I hear laughing coming towards my right. I spot the red headed District Two girl two plats to my right, and her head is thrown back in laughter. I have no idea why anyone would be laughing at such a time like this, but since she is a Career and most of them are screwed up in the head it makes sense.

I scan around the ring of plates and come to the realization that there are only ten of us here, and my mind immediately races between the possibilities of where the other twenty tributes are. I turn to my left again and notice Savvy standing three plates over, and my grin widens even further when I realize that Corlis is on the plate next to Savvy.

Good, we need all of us together in order to survive.

And even better, I don't spot Matilda within the ten tributes here. I guess Savvy and I don't need to worry about the plan we concocted to kill Matilda and to still keep Corlis with us.

Before any more of my thoughts can come to fruition, a loud gong rings throughout the arena and I dart off my plate, running to my left, going straight for Savvy and Corlis. Thankfully, they have the same idea I do and Savvy has grabbed Corlis's hand and is running with her over to me.

"To the right!" I scream to them, and just after I say that do I hear the sounds of weapons clashing, scaring me to the very core. The three of us run to the right of the small little area and duck behind a rock that is large enough to cover us completely if we crouch down low enough. To my surprise, right next to me is a black glass of some sort, sealing me into this very tight area and not letting me going anywhere but through the Cornucopia are and out the other end to escape the Bloodbath.

"We have to make a move to get back in there," I say to Savvy and Corlis. "We need supplies and that's the only way out is to get through the slaughter." If we go to the left we will run into the place where the two black glass walls meet to form a triangle, and if we go to the right we will run into a wall of rocks that would take way too much time to climb over. Going through the slaughter is the only way out.

"We need to make sure that it's at least semi safe before all three of us go out and expose ourselves," says Savvy. "If all of us go out at the same time and we have Careers coming at us we'll be dead."

I stick my head up and over the tiny rock wall to look at what's going on. The first thing I notice is blood pooling on the rock across the rocky field and traveling down through the cracks in the rocks, like water rushing over rocks in a river. I try and find the source of the blood but I can't seem to find it, and before I can think any longer I notice the District Four boy stabbing the Six boy through the neck with a spear.

Aston, I think the Six boy's name was, immediately crumples to the ground and goes limp. I duck back down behind the rocky ledge just as he begins to run with the Two girl to go find more victims.

"The Four boy just killed the boy from Six," I relay to Savvy and Corlis. "Nobody spotted me yet but if we wait much longer to make our move we will be stuck here with whatever Careers are remaining, and then we'll really be doomed." Savvy nods her head in agreement but Corlis looks utterly petrified of having to leave this tiny space of protection.

"We have to go, now." Savvy grabs Corlis's hand and helps her stand up, and I peer over the rocky wall, looking to see where we should run to. I notice the One girl ducking into the Cornucopia, the Four boy fighting the girl from Seven, and the Two girl is occupied with chasing after the girl from Twelve, whom is currently fleeing from the area completely with a backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Everyone that I can see is occupied," I say. "Our best bet is to go for one of us to go to the Cornucopia's outer edges to grab some supplies while the other two make a break for the clearing. We can meet up after that as the one that stays behind will see the direction the other two are going."

"So who's going to be the one?"

Corlis looks back and forth between the two of us and Savvy looks me dead in the eyes. I can tell Savvy is willing to do this but she doesn't want to if she doesn't have to. Instantly I make up my mind and I know what I have to do.

"I'll go. I'm the oldest and stand the best chance at fighting someone off. I'll meet up with you guys soon." Corlis looks devastated that one of us has to separate from the group and Savvy looks shocked that I stepped up to do this. "Stay safe."

And with that, I fling myself over the side of the rock wall and start pumping my legs towards the Cornucopia. I can hear my two allies running in the opposite direction, and I manage to let a small smile seep onto my face as I run head onto danger. At least, if nothing else, I saved my two friends. I can at least be okay knowing that I did something good.

I round the corner of the Cornucopia and begin to rummage through creates to find something useful. When I decide that there's nothing good here, I turn around to start searching again.

I barely have time to react as the sword comes barreling down towards my chest.

* * *

**Arnette Lyrin, 18, District Two**

**Acereader55**

* * *

The sword enters the girl's chest easily and swiftly and her eyes immediately bug out of her head.

The light heaves her eyes as blood drips out of her mouth and squirts out of her chest, and I rip the sword out, letting the body collapse onto the floor and let the blood pool around the girl's lifeless corpse.

"Got another one, Atlas!" I scream out in pure glee, feeling the rush of killing someone crash over me like a wave in the ocean. My first kill these games… how exciting!

I've always dreamed of what my first kill would be like, and for it to be as quick as this was is a little disappointing, but nonetheless I did enjoy seeing the light fade from her eyes and hearing the thud as her lifeless body hit the floor.

I didn't even recognize that the bitch was searching through our supplies until I stopped chasing the cold blooded girl from Twelve. There was no way I was going to be able to catch her, and she only took one single backpack which couldn't have contained much, so I let her go in favor of searching for someone else to swiftly slaughter.

Good thing I let her go when I did, because the girl from Three was really getting some stuff. By the time I reached her body she had already opened two crates and had a backpack sitting behind her, ready to be filled with whatever she could find. Too bad the bitch is never going to be able to use the things she risked her life for.

"Arnette, a little help would be nice!" Atlas calls over, and I whip my head around to see what is so difficult that he can't handle it himself. "The slut is tougher than she looks!" Ah, of course. The girl from Seven, someone who is actually competent and a threat. We definitely need to eliminate her, but Atlas can handle it on his own. I've got my eyes set on someone different that I saw duck into the Cornucopia earlier.

"You can handle it Atlas! There's something else I have to do." Atlas begins to shout profanities at me but he can't keep it up much longer as the Seven girl is really putting up a strong fight. He turns his attention back to her as I make my way into the inner portions of the Cornucopia. As I suspected, I can hear a rat in here.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" I kick crates and backpacks over and watch as they fall backwards, sending pebbles and dust flying into the air. I'm getting towards the back of the structure and I still haven't found the silent girl from One. "I spy with my little eye…"

Before I can even blink my eye, a knife comes flying towards my body. I spin around as fast as I can, but the speed that the knife was thrown at was way too fast to dodge completely and the knife lodges itself in the lower region of my thigh.

I scream out and curse as pain floods my body, and I grip the region of my leg that's in the most pain with one of my hands, using my other hand to hold my sword out in front of me in case the bitch decides to come close.

I see the swaying of her dark ponytail entering the light at the entrance of the Cornucopia, and she turns around once more, flashing a very dark and eerie smirk my way.

"Fuck you, bitch!"

Zaria's facial expression turns darker than I've ever seen it before and she takes out another knife at lightning speed and throws it hurtling towards my head. I throw myself behind one of the creates and hear the satisfying _thunk_ of the knife hitting the wood of the create.

By the time I allow myself to stand up from behind the crate, Zaria is no where to be seen.

"Atlas!" I scream. "Stop fighting the slut, go after the real threat, Zaria!"

Atlas takes my warning seriously and ducks from Phoebe's next blow. As he is ducking low he sweeps his leg in a helicopter motion, knocking Phoebe right off her feet, sending her tumbling to the rock hard ground. Her head hits the ground lightly, and I can see her immediately grab her head in her hands, caressing the wound and trying to make it less painful.

Now that Phoebe is out of the way, Atlas goes straight for Zaria, whom I'm assuming is darting around the Cornucopia as we speak, heading for the clearing trying to get away from us. Now that Atlas is chasing the biggest threat in our arena, I can finally take a rest and bandage up this wound that Zaria gave me.

If Atlas manages to get her, then we rid ourselves of the biggest threat in the arena. And then it's smooth sailing from there.

Why did the bitch have to be so good at throwing knives?

* * *

**Zaria Tullius, 18, District One**

**Acereader55**

* * *

If only I had enough knives to cover every inch of Arnette's body I could be a happy girl.

But for now, I have to focus on the task at hand. And that's not getting killed by her assistant and partner in crime, Atlas.

I have no idea where the rest of her alliance is, or where the rest of my alliance is for that matter, but if there's one thing training has taught me it's to be resourceful and to focus on the present. Focusing on the past cannot change anything, and it will do nothing but harm you. I have learned from that mistake before, and I do not intend to feel the pain of that mistake again, especially when the pain would more than likely mean dying.

I pump my arms as I will myself to keep moving and to keep going, knowing that stopping would mean my death. I cast a quick glance behind me and notice that Atlas is still chasing me, and miraculously he is gaining on me. I never knew he was this fast. Maybe it's just the adrenaline and the games that is making him go harder than he has ever gone before.

I make numerous zig zag turns to try and confuse Atlas, but he is adamant about keeping up with me, and I notice that I am starting to really lose some ground now. I'm beginning to tire, and I know that I cannot keep this up much longer. I notice that the rocky platform is starting to slant downwards, and I am starting to head towards the thin tree lines.

I know that I cannot make it to the tress before Atlas would catch me, so I do the only other thing that I can possibly do.

I stop running and turn around to face him.

This certainly caught him off guard and the look on his face does cause a smirk to slide onto my face, despite the situation that I am facing currently. Atlas wills his body to stop just as he's closing in on me, and I ready myself to begin pelting knives at his body.

Before he even has time to completely stop running towards me, I launch two knives in succession in his direction, and he has to scramble to even manage to move his body out of the way. He manages to dodge the first one but, thankfully for me, the second one lodges itself into his right shoulder, and he cries out in pain as he runs for cover behind one of the larger rocks in this area.

I immediately turn around and begin to run some more, determined to get myself to safety and away from the danger that is behind me. I turn around to make sure that Atlas is not following me, but of course to my displeasure, he is still following me, though slightly slower than before.

I notice that the knife in his shoulder is now in his hand, and blood is pouring out of the incision in his shoulder that my knife made in it. Good, let the bastard bleed to death.

I turn back around and notice that I am very close to the trees now, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I know that once I get into the trees I will be safer and relatively out of danger for a small amount of time, and that's time that I desperately need.

My foot clips something on the ground and I go soaring through the air before plummeting into the hard surface, landing awkwardly on my arm causing a small whimper of pain to escape from my lips. Good thing I didn't land on my throwing arm.

I try to get up as fast as I can, and when I notice how much closer Atlas has gotten I begin to panic once again. I turn to run, but out of the corner of my eye I notice that Atlas is raising his arm up to throw the knife at me with the arm that is not bloodied and bruised. I have no choice but to turn around and to attempt to defend myself, so I hold my backpack that I grabbed in front of my chest, and the knife thuds into the fabric of the backpack.

Unfortunately for me, I get no reprieve after saving my life with my backpack. The time that I used to defend myself from his throw was all the time he needed to catch up to me and tackle me, sending me flying to the floor and my backpack skidding away from me.

I bring my arms in front of my face as he sends a punch flying in my direction, and the impact leaves my arms throbbing. I block another punch, and another, and by the time the fourth one comes my arms fall to my sides and I take a whack right in the right side of my face.

I can feel the blood pouring down my cheek, and I see starts in my vision but I will myself to keep fighting, never to give up. I bring my knee upwards from under his body, kneeing him in the very sensitive place that he has, and I use this time to send my elbow flying into his nose, and I hear a very satisfying crack, letting me know I definitely damaged his nose.

I whip around in a circle and send a kick into his stomach, and Atlas lets out a grunt as the wind is knocked out of him. I run to go and tackle him, and he braces himself for the impact. We both fall, and I begin to take a knife out of my belt to try and stab him. Due to the sheer size and strength of him, he manages to flip us both over and suddenly my body is pressed up against the rocky ground.

I have my knife up in the air with my one hand and he is holding me down with one of his. His other hand is pressing down onto the hand that I have my knife in, and he begins to press down as hard as he can, a scowl on his face and his teeth clenched. Blood is pouring from his nose onto my face, mixing with the blood that is seeping out of my face. The knife is getting closer and closer to my throat, and I let out a cry of frustration as I realize I won't be able to defeat him.

Atlas lets out a grin as he realizes that I have almost no strength left, and I can tell he is ready to give one final push and end it.

Before I can even think anymore, Atlas's eyes go wide and he coughs up blood onto my face, causing me to cringe. Atlas falls on top of me and the knife falls from his grasp and from mine, and his limp body rolls off of me once I push him away. I'm in shock and I don't even realize what happened until I realize the gigantic slash going down his back, and the girl standing in front of me with a bloodied axe. I recognize her to be the girl from Seven, Phoebe.

"He called me a slut, he had it coming," she says. "I think we'd make a great team, pretty girl. We should be called the slut sisters. What do you say?"

It doesn't take me long to accept the outstretched hand she gives me. I may be a trained killer, I may good at what I do, but I can't survive alone. I need someone to be with. And if she's the only option, so be it.

"Slut sisters. I like it."

* * *

**Glint Grayson, 18, District One**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I pound my fists against the tube. What's happening? Why am I still down here? Am I trapped? I'm pretty sure I should be in the arena by now. How long has it been? It feels like hours. Why am I still in here?

I slink down to the floor, all of my energy zapped from yelling and, rather foolishly now that I think about it, trying to break myself out of this thing. I know how this is supposed to work and this isn't it. My trainers would have mentioned this, we would have done small space training or something to prepare. This is wrong it has to be wrong.

I slap my hand once more against the floor in frustration. I jump up as the tube begins to rise, on my feet in less than a second. It's difficult to prepare myself... again. I'm tired already. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to panic, but what else was I supposed to do? I can only hope that the others will be able to pick up my slack. Especially Jasper and Zaria, since I can't imagine either of them being thrown off by this. They're way too focused to panic.

The light is so bright that I have to cover my eyes before I am even fully in the arena. Unable to contain my excitement at seeing the arena for the first time, I squint my eyes and take my first look around.

The first thing I notice is a tall, black wall that looks like it cuts the arena in half. Behind me, there are trees and bushes and all that nature stuff, but the wall seems to be some sort of barrier. I've never seen anything like it.

The next thing I notice is what's missing. I don't see any of my alliance members, save for Dierdre who looks at me with the same confusion I feel. I count and there are only ten tributes, and only three Careers- Myself, Dierdre, and Eden. Where is everyone?

I was too busy thinking to even realize the countdown is going, and the sound of the gong shakes me from the inside out. For a second nobody seems to know what to do. Then, all at once everyone appears to make the exact same choice.

Run for it.

It's only us three Careers that run towards the Cornucopia, which itself has also been shrunken. All of the other tributes make a beeline straight for the trees. I don't realize how tired my body is until I have to tell my legs to move. I feel slow and every movement is a challenge, but wide-eyed I get my hands on a spear and pivot around to face the platforms.

"They're gone," Dierdre whispers, saying exactly what we're all probably thinking. She's right, the last thing I am able to see of anyone else is the District Six girl's ponytail as she disappears into the forest.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Eden spits, taking off towards the forest. Neither Dierdre nor I make any move to go after her. What's the point? Like Dierdre said, they're gone. We have no idea what the arena is like or even how big it is. It's also not a good idea to leave the supplies unguarded.

"Do we go after her?" Dierdre asks quietly. I shake my head and she nods, both of us taking a few steps back towards the Cornucopia to wait for Eden to come back. If she even does. In all honesty, it's a tossup because technically she isn't part of our alliance. Until we figure out where everyone else is, though, I don't think it would hurt to make a temporary truce.

The silence is as heavy as it was back in the tube. I shiver at the memory, and the remembrance of how long we were left down there makes me even more confused. Are the others already loose on the arena? Forced to move away from the Cornucopia to incite a separate Bloodbath?

If it's possible to get back to them I'm going to do it. There is no way I wish to be stuck with the weakest member of my alliance and possibly one of the strongest members of the other. That simply does not heed good results in my mind.

Suddenly a cannon sound shakes the ground. It never sounded quite this loud when I was watching through a television screen, but then again everything about this experience has been far more real than I've expected. A couple minutes later I see Eden reappear from the forest.

"Who was it?" I ask. It's not hard to judge from the slight uplift in her mood that that cannon was because of her.

"District Three," she shrugs as if it's nothing, but I can see the satisfaction in her eyes. "Look, until we figure out what the hell is going on, here's what's going to happen. We're all Careers, we can work together, but I lead. Any objections? Good."

She must be able to see the distaste in my eyes for her revelation. I keep her gaze- I'm not a coward and Eden doesn't scare me. If she thinks she can just assume leadership she is very wrong. It's not even that I particularly want it for myself. I just don't want her to assume she's the only one capable.

"There are two of us," Dierdre says. "One of you. I think we have the majority here."

Eden is in her face in a second, her clenched fists by her side just as intimidating as any weapon could have been. "I wouldn't push your luck, pipsqueak. You wouldn't be much of a loss to this arrangement."

* * *

**Armada Pruitt, 13, District Eight**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

My legs feel like nothing under my weight, but I will myself to keep running. I have no idea what's going on, but I'm not dead yet. I'm not dead and that is the most important thing. I need to make sure I stay not dead.

I can't believe I'm not dead.

One foot catches on the other and I hit the mud a second later. It had been dry land for a while, but slowly and surely it's gotten muddier and wetter. I already had to make a detour to go around a pond, choosing to keep up my speed rather than wade who knows how deep into the muddy water.

I wipe the mud from my chin and get back to my feet. Now that I'm standing here, it's easier to feel my boots sinking into the mud. I force them out and decide to keep walking. I need to figure some things out, and running doesn't let me think very well when I have to worry about getting stuck in the muck.

This place is huge.

I've never seen anything like it. When I look up all I see are the splayed branches filled with orange, red, and yellow leaves. Then, I look down and see the same colors all caked in mud and exposed roots. Everything is silent, which I'm not sure I expected. There was always background noise when we were forced to watch the Hunger Games, so I think I assumed it would be loud and tense. By contrast, I almost feel peaceful or at least certainly more so than I did at any point in the Capitol.

I can't believe what I'm thinking. This is the arena, it's not supposed to be calm and beautiful. It's supposed to be rough, tense, and terrifying. How can I be scared of a place like this?

I take a breath, the light air such a nice contrast to the heaviness I was sucking in while I was waiting to be launched into this place. Everything about this place is nothing like I thought it would be, and I'm scared at how much I'm warming up to it already. Is this what the other tributes feel? Do they like the arena, despite it being everything they're grown up fearing? I feel like I'm ignoring the basic instincts that watching the Games every year is supposed to instil in me.

This is a scary place, that's what was always true. Except now I'm not sure it is true.

"Toby?" The shout shakes me back into reality. Before I can get myself out of the open, I see a small body drop from one of the trees. I don't even know what to do. The voice doesn't sound confrontational, and yet here I am frozen in fear of it.

Before she even stands up I recognize the little girl from District Eleven, her wild hair already beginning to break free of the pigtails they've been tied into. Her eyes widen when she sees me, and for a second we only stand there with our eyes locked on each other. Then, without another word she takes off towards the left. I don't know what to do, but the terror in her eyes tells me that following her will do more harm than good.

She must be looking for her allies. Why aren't I looking for mine- Avrie, Eira, and Shay? I only saw Shay at the Cornucopia, and I'm not sure where he went. I mentally slap myself for not paying more attention. Especially considering that he was the only one I was able to see.

That brings up a whole new slew of questions. Where are Eira and Avrie? I didn't see them at the Cornucopia, but then again I remember only counting ten of us when there should be thirty. Were they involved in a different Bloodbath earlier, when I was trapped underground in my launch tube? That's the only explanation I can come up with for why I didn't see them.

But that doesn't tell me how I'm supposed to find them. Are they looking for Shay and I? I mean we are supposed to be allies, but then again it wasn't first on my priority to even reconnect with the one ally I did see.

Am I alone? Like, not just for now but for good? My stomach churns at the thought that I could be. I don't know what I'm doing, I can't survive by myself. What if someone comes after me, someone bigger and stronger? So any of the twenty-eight or so tributes that are. I'd be dead. I don't want to die. I'm still alive by some trick of fate, but that means I have a chance. I can hide or, I don't know, do something.

"Armada, wait up!" I jump at the sound of the voice, my face heating up as I realize I have simply been standing here for the past few minutes. I turn around and see Shay, red-faced and out of breath, running towards me.

As soon as he reaches me he flops himself down on the ground, not seeming to care one bit about the mud. After a few minutes he finally speaks, still not quite having caught his breath. "I did not know you could run that fast."

I blush. "Sorry. How long were you trying to catch me?"

"Since you took off at the Bloodbath," he laughs. "In my mind I was still stuck in that tube, I hate small spaces. Seeing you disappear behind the trees got me moving, though."

"Sorry," I say again, not quite able to keep the smile off my face.

"Where are Avrie and Eira?" he asks, genuine concern crossing his face.

I shake my head. "I wish I knew. They weren't even there are the Bloodbath. There were only ten of us there that means that twenty are missing with them."

"Missing?" He says doubtfully. "They can't just be missing... Can they?"

* * *

_**Hunter Mathot, District Ten**_

_**Aluma Rye, District Five**_

_**Lavender Vargas, District Seven**_

_**Aston Moroque, District Six**_

_**Maelle Thurske, District Three**_

_**Atlas Majors, District Four**_

_**Zeno King, District Three**_

* * *

**Song: Dark Paradise by Lana Del Ray.**

* * *

**A/N: Hey it's Fin! **

**So here we are, only like a month later but it's fine! Hopefully the next update will be sooner, Eh guys? **

**We'd like to apologize to those who lost tributes, for me it was who I didn't have plot lines for, though I did love all my tributes, and I'm really sad to see them go! **

**It is the Games though, and we all knew people were gonna die, so I hope no one is too upset, but we do understand if you stop reading.. **

**I guess the arena is kind of confusing, eh? No one really knows where the others are, and I'm not gonna go into detail about it because it will all be explained, but I'm sure if you thought about it hard enough you can figure it out. **

**Different outfits, different terrains.. Idk tho..**

**Okay I think that's enough of me talking? I hope you guys enjoyed it, and it was worth the wait! We're all so excited the Games are finally here, which Im hoping will result in quicker updates! **

**Okay questions! **

_**Surprise deaths? **_  
_**Surprise survivors? **_  
_**Who do you think is destined to die next? **_  
_**And who do you think really stands a shot?**_

* * *

**Until next time, peace out Girl Scouts!**


	14. Out of Touch

**Not About Angels by Birdy**

_How unfair, it's just our luck,_

_Found something real that's out of touch. _

* * *

**Regan Volke, 18, District Seven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I've been keeping tabs on the Career tributes since about an hour after the Bloodbath, if one could even call it that. I know that the Capitol will not be happy with such a terrible performance by their beloved Career tributes, which makes this the perfect opportunity to end their little reign before it even begins.

Every year someone tries it, taking on the Career pack to try and even the odds for the rest of the district tributes. There are many differences to this year than the others, however. First, the Capitol can't be happy with how they've been doing which means the odds won't likely be tipped unfairly towards them. And second, there are only three of them.

I have no idea where all the others have gone. There is supposed to be an increased number of us, from twenty-four to thirty, but I only counted ten at the Bloodbath yesterday. Where they are right now I couldn't say, but I would be stupid not to take advantage of it. The scariest part about the Careers is their pack-like mentality. Without that, I think I stand a good chance. They might be trained to kill, but so far only one out of three of them is a killer. I think I have enough experience on my side to trump their training anyway.

The rumours circulating around District Seven about me have been true this whole time, though thankfully it seems like none of my fellow tributes have heard about me. I've made choices in my young lifetime that I am not proud of, but I've changed my ways and that's really all that matters I think. No real harm done if you forget about the families that have been left without a cause of their father or child's death.

I can't always do that, but it helps to forget about the people. Guilt will eat you alive if you let it. I'm determined to live my life without allowing the choices I have made define me. Why should I have the rest of my life ruined for a dark time in my life? I'm only eighteen, I have time to make the rest of my life something good.

First, I have to get out of here and unfortunately that means reawakening the dark part of me that allowed me to do what I have done in the past. I wasn't sure how I felt about it at first, but I can already feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Part of me is excited, and I am allowing that part to rule me at least for now.

Shay almost made me turn that transformation around, to go back to the Regan that was apologetic for his actions. Just like his father did almost a year ago, when he caught me standing in an ally and managed to convince himself that the only crime I was committing was selling drugs. Almost being caught was enough to scare me into changing, and Mr. Langford was a huge help in that aspect.

Just seeing Shay here scared me, especially after our late night discussion. It just goes to show that anyone can end up in this hell. It would be way too easy if it was all messed up kids like me. Knowing that there are people in here like Mr. Langford, like Shay, well that fucks with me a bit I'm not going to lie.

I become aware of the sun starting to cast its glow over the trees and I realize that my cover of darkness is beginning to disappear. I lock my gaze on the closest Career to me, a boy with his head lulled against his chest. No doubt he was supposed to be the one on guard. It's a real shame, but his misfortune is my luck.

I pull the knife out of my boot. It's the only weapon that I managed to get before the Careers had gotten themselves organized enough to go after us. I'm not worried, though, once I put these three out of their misery I will have all of the supplies that one person could possibly need.

I take ten quiet steps forward before I am standing directly behind him. I took some time to explore the forest beyond this clearing, and the trees do thin out a bit as the mud gets damper, but I know that even standing within arms reach of the boy I am still easily camouflaged especially in the dark.

I reach out quickly and put my hand on his forehead, attempting to pull the knife across his throat before he can even flinch. Unfortunately for me, just my touch is enough to pull him out of sleep and his head moves just enough that I miss his jugular. Another second and I hit the mark, but in that time his legs pounding against the crunchy leaves has no doubt awoken the others.

I stand frozen as I wait to see if my plan has been ruined. I don't hear anything and I let my breath out slowly, thinking that I am in the clear.

I feel the impact on my back and I go sprawling with my arms propelling me forwards. I don't even have time to look behind me to see who is there, because I land just a foot away from another Career, who awakens with a shriek. I recognize her immediately and almost laugh. What good luck that I would land closest to the most useless of the Careers, little Dierdre Lewell from District Four. I couldn't have asked for a better situation.

I dive forward with my knife, but to my surprise she catches my arm before it can reach her. Still on the floor, she kicks out at my gut and the breath is knocked out of my lungs. She is up on her feet now, but I can only groan. I attempt to get up, when I see someone that looks far bigger than Dierdre standing over me. She kicks me hard in the leg and I grunt in pain. It takes all the strength in me to ignore the pain and try to pull myself away from her.

I hit something with my back and I pray that I have finally made it to the tree line. If I can just disappear right now I can go back and regroup. I look up, not quite taking in what I am seeing as something barrels down towards my face. I can do nothing but sit back and watch, realizing what is happening a second before it reaches me when I see the blade of my knife glistening in the rising sunlight.

* * *

**Jasper Graves, 18, District One Male**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

I have to be honest, since arriving in the arena, Raleigh has done nothing but impress me.

In the Capitol I saw her as this ditzy nice girl that had no business being here, but she's definitely already proved to me why she was chosen. She didn't pick up a kill in the bloodbath, but the way she tossed that girl around was nothing less of vicious, and while I don't respect the way she attacked the weaponless girl, I can't help but appreciate her determination.

Especially when compared to the attitude she had coming into the Games, it was as if she wasn't playing the Games at all. But I now know that Raleigh is playing the Games, and she's playing harder than perhaps anyone else. Except for me of course, I'll always be one step ahead of her.

"Are you ready to go?" Raleigh questions as she stomps out the fire we had lit last night. It wasn't cold, in fact it was rather hot in this arena, but Raleigh had come up with the idea of lighting a fire and then camping just far enough away from it so that we could still see it, but not close enough for us to be the targets. Unfortunately no one fell for the trap.

I nod in response to Raleigh, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and tightening the grip on my sword. Raleigh does the same, pulling her pair of knives from the loop of her belt, and walking off without another word.

Actually Raleigh hasn't said a lot since we got here, which is weird since she never seemed to shut up in the Capitol. I don't know if Raleigh's changing already, or if she's just starting to let her true colours shine through.

"Where are we going?" I ask, but Raleigh doesn't stop. I know where she wants to go though, we'd gotten into a little argument over it last night.

"Why can't we find Ebba and Braden after we find Zaria and the others?" I grunt, already tired of Raleigh thinking it's always her way.

"Have you seen Zaria? Glint? Any of them?" she suddenly snaps, spinning around and facing me.

"No," I deadpan.

"Have you seen Braden and Ebba?"

Arguing with her is pointless, that's something I've learned very well. So instead of standing my ground, I lift my sword and motion in the direction she was going, indicating she should lead the way.

She does so without another word, and I suddenly wonder why she trusts me so much. She walks ahead of me without looking back, yet she must know how it easy it would be for me to lunge out and stab her. I never would of course, that would be completely unfair and that is just not who I am, but does Raleigh really know that?

We continue walking through the trees until I begin to think that's all there is to this arena. Pretty boring and unoriginal if you ask me, but I can't complain. We haven't seen any mutts yet, other than a few little animals that seemed to pose no harm.

Raleigh suddenly stops in front of me, quickly crouching down and drawing her knives. I do the same, looking and listening around me trying to pick up whatever has spooked her.

"Do you hear that?" she finally whispers after a few moments of silence. I listen again, but I don't hear any footsteps or voices, all I hear is the wind whipping through the trees, and the subtle sound of splashing water.

I quickly look up, nodding my head.

Raleigh continues pushing through the trees, staying in a crouch position. As we continue along, I start to notice the trees becoming sparser, and the sand under our feet loses it's dirty look and begins to look more like sand.

Raleigh sighs all of the sudden, causally standing up. I look past her and am surprised to see a rather larger body of water, surrounded by a rather nice looking beach. The sun hits the water at an angle that makes it sparkle, and the sandy beach looks like I could lay there for hours.

Raleigh steps past the tree line and onto the sandy beach, and I wait a second before following her, to make sure there isn't someone or something just waiting to jump us.

When I know the coast is clear, I step out behind her and almost immediately jump back when Raleigh suddenly starts sprinting towards the water.

I watch as without hesitation she runs right into the sparkly water, and goes until the water is just above her waist. She turns towards me and I can't help but smile as I see the huge grin that's written all over face.

"Come swim Jasper!" she cheers, dunking her head into the water, which makes the rest of her body wet, making the already ridiculously tight uniform somehow even tighter.

Raleigh warned me about this on the first night. She told me I'd better not get too excited seeing her in her tight uniform, or else she'd have to cut something off, and I really don't want that to happen.

But I have to admit, she sure does look good in that uniform.

"Hey idiot, are you coming or what?" she yells again, and I instantly shush her, worriedly looking around.

"Whose going to attack two careers?" she said, twirling around before falling back into the water and floating on top.

I shake my head when she questioningly looks at me again, choosing not to get myself all wet and then trek through the dirty sand. But that doesn't seem to bother her, so I let her have her fun, spinning and dancing around in the water.

I'm reminded of the Raleigh I'd seen in the Capitol, and not the won who had viciously attacked that girl yesterday. I see the smiley girl whose in way over her head, and almost forget the way she's treated me over the past 24 hours. I forget about her snapping, and arguing, and instead see nothing but a little girl, playing around and having fun.

And it scares me. That Raleigh can make me forget about who she really is so easily, even when I know the truth. It's like a spell, and I don't know how to break it.

When she's done, she walks out of the water and picks up her backpack and weapons that she had left on the shoreline, and struts back over to me.

"Ready to keep going?" she says with a smile, but there's something else there. Something that wasn't there when she was spinning around in the water.

Again I'm left to wonder; who the hell is Raleigh Torrance?

* * *

**Gideon Challene, 16, District Five**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"Who's there?"

The words come out with so much more confidence than I feel as I press my back into a tree so that I can't be taken from behind by whatever's footsteps are crunching towards me.

I look around but I cannot see anyone. I'm glad that the trees have thinned out from how they were closer to the Cornucopia, because I would have had no hope of seeing anything approaching me or stopping myself from walking into someone else.

The footsteps stop and I begin to wonder if they had been some kind of sick hallucination brought on by the early stages of withdrawal. It hasn't even been a day, I managed to beg some morphling out of my mentor after about an hour of crying and whining, but who can ever predict the ways withdrawal will hit. A few seconds later and I still hear nothing.

Just as I am about to brush off the sound as some kind of cruel trick of the mind, I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I jump about three feet in the air and whirl around, my hands outstretched defensively. For a second I wish that I had a weapon, even if I really wouldn't know what to do with one since I'd only ever shot a gun once and there are never guns in the arena anyways.

When I turn around I see a girl, barely as tall as me with red eyes and her hand pressed to her lips. When she speaks, her voice is shaky and muffled. "I'm sorry, did I scare you?"

"No," I say sarcastically, trying hard to mask the unevenness of my breathing. She shrinks even further into herself, and I almost feel bad. In a lot of ways she reminds me of Aluma, but much more fragile. I swallow thickly when I think of Aluma. I never saw her yesterday, but I know what it means that I saw her face in the sky last night.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "Look, I know you don't know me and I don't know you but I was wondering if you were looking for an ally."

I appreciate her boldness, but I'm really not sure. I wasn't certain about Aluma, and after losing her just as quickly as I met her I don't know if I am willing to go through that again. The more I look at her, though, the more that I know I won't be able to say no. She is quite obviously terrified and I don't want to admit it but I feel the same way. I got used to the idea that I wouldn't be alone in the arena, and last night was a hard pill to swallow as I tried to fall asleep knowing that I could be found and killed before I ever woke up.

"What's your name?" I ask. It's not really an answer, but by the way her face relaxes I know that it is enough for her.

"Tatum," she says quietly. "You're... Gideon, right?"

"That's me," I say, but it's difficult to put enthusiasm behind the words. Then, something occurs to me. "Do you know anything about the other tributes, like maybe where they've gone?"

She shakes her head. "I spent all of yesterday looking for Aston, he was my district partner, but I never found him."

"I'm sorry," I say, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. She must really care about her district partner. "There's really nothing else to do, so we can go look for him some more if you'd like?"

She shakes her head again. "He's dead. I saw him in the sky last night. There's no reason to look anymore."

"My district partner died also," I say, feeling the crack in my voice as I almost say her name out loud.

"I'm so sorry," she says, wiping away new tears. "I just wish I could have maybe found him before. Maybe I could have done something."

"A noble thought," I nod, deciding to share my suspicions about the whereabouts of the others. "I haven't seen head or foot of the others. I'm starting to think they can't be in here with us."

"Where else could they be?"

"No idea," I shrug.

There is silence for a second before Tatum speaks up again. "There is something else I found. You might be able to make more sense of it than I have been able to."

She begins walking and I am confused but I follow her regardless. We walk in silence for at least ten minutes before I see what I assume she meant to show me. In front of us, it's like there is a barrier where the terrain completely changes. On one side, the one Tatum and I are standing on, there is mud and willow trees. On the other, sand and thick clusters of trees. I step towards the barrier, seeing that I am even more correct in using that word as I thought.

I put my hand out and sure enough I am stopped by something. It's warm, and the more I look at it the more easily I am able to see the actual wall. I furrow my brow as I think more about it. I remember there being a tall black wall at the Bloodbath. It appeared to reach up impossibly far, but I distinctly remember it being black. Is it possible that this is the black wall made clear? It only seems logical.

"What is it?" Tatum asks from behind me.

I turn around to face her, seeing just as much confusion on her face as is probably on mine. I try to think of something to tell her, but as much as I've figured out about the barrier she could easily see for herself. I have no idea what's really behind it, the trees block too much of it from my view, or why.

"I have no idea."

* * *

**Toby Alvarez, 13, District Three Male**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

At some point during the night, the giant black walls turn from black to clear.

Now instead of seeing nothing but darkness, I can see a whole other terrain. There's trees, much like where I am, but instead of the sandy floors there's a more muddy and almost water like ground. It looks damp, and cold, and not somewhere I'd really want to find myself.

Especially since at the bloodbath I was an idiot and just ran, and didn't collect anything that I could use. I didn't even grab any shoes, which means my feet are barefoot, so who knows what kind of infections I could be picking up from the dirty sand.

That's why I haven't really been moving around. If I just stay here, I can't hurt my feet, plus there's gotta be a reason for the changing of the walls. They wouldn't just show us a whole other terrain for no reason, would they?

No. This is the Capitol, and they always have a reason.

I've had many theories over the past 24 hours, but there's only one that has really stuck in my head as possible. At the bloodbath, the first thing I noticed was that Winnie wasn't there, and after the initial sadness, I realized that over half the tributes weren't there. But they had to be somewhere right? They had to either be in the arena somewhere, or in a whole other arena, which perhaps is only separated from our arena by a single glass wall.

If that other terrain is another arena, than Winnie could be in there. It's possible, it has to be!

I turn from the glass, slinking to the ground, my back against the wall. This is so stupid! I finally make a friend, and she's ripped away from me, and the only way I know she's still alive is because her face wasn't in the sky last night. But I have no idea where she is, or if she's okay. There was a cannon not that long ago, maybe that was her? I have no idea, and I'll probably never no what happened to her.

My fists begin to pound the dirty sand until they begin to hurt, and even then I keep going until I run out of energy. I've never been one to anger easily, but I've never been so frustrated in my life. I just want to know she's okay, or that she's not okay and it was quick and painless.

It's so much worse not knowing, left to wonder and to let your imagination run wild with all the possible things that could have happened to the crazy girl.

I just miss her, and that's something I'm not used to dealing with.

Suddenly I hear a small beeping sound, and look up and almost cry when I see the familiar sight of a parachute floating down right towards me. It's only day two, and I've done nothing but sit here and mope, who would even consider sponsoring me?

The parachute lands directly in my lap, and I open the small container to see there's nothing but a small simple knife, not much bigger than my finger. What good is this? There's no way I could actually defend myself with this, so what's the freaking point?

Still, I look to the sky and smile and nod appreciatively to whoever took the time out of their day to buy me this.

I set the parachute to the side and almost don't nice the little note attached to the container. I quickly grab it and unfold it, quickly reading it.

'You're killing us Toby, turn around!'

The note confuses me, but I do as it says, and turn to face the wall.

When I do, my knees suddenly become weak and I can't stop the tears as they begin to flow down my face.

She's there, standing teary eyed as well, just starring at me.

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, so I just stand there starring at her, and she does the same thing. It's not like we can talk or anything, so there's really not much else I can do. But after a while I begin to get uncomfortable just starring into each other's eyes, so I awkwardly raise my hand and wave at her.

She waves back and I can't help but let out a small chuckle. Next I point my thumb up, and then down, hoping she understands that I'm asking if she's okay. She does, point her thumb up before pointing at me and raising her eyebrow. I stick my thumb up again and smile, before showing her my little knife.

I can see her chuckle through the glass, before spinning around and emptying her pockets, showing me she has nothing on her. I frown, what has she been eating?

I rub my belly and then point at her, and she shakes her head, telling me she hasn't eaten anything. I point at myself and shake my head, telling her we're in the same boat.

And then it almost gets awkward. There's nothing else we can say without actually talking, so we're left to just stare at each other again. For the first time I notice that she is dressed differently to me. While I wear a skin-tight simple outfit that barely covers my body, Winnie is dressed in a full outfit, complete with boots and a sweater. She looks like she's dressed for the Games, and I look like I'm dressed for a swim, which is ironic because her arena appears to have water in it while I haven't even seen a drop, not that I've explored much.

Her boots and pants are covered in mud, and for the first time I notice the slight tremble in her uncovered hands, making me think her arena is a lot colder than mine. From first glance, my arena looks like a paradise when compared to hers, but who knows what my arena holds after the trees end. That's something I never plan to find out.

Suddenly Winnie is looking up, and I notice the parachute flying just above the tree line in her arena. As soon as she can reach it, she jumps up and tears open the package, revealing nothing but a large notebook and pen.

She seems to mull over the gift for a few moments, before quickly writing something down and lifting it to the glass. I have to squint, but eventually I make out what it says.

'Hi Toby'

It's stupid, but I feel the tears beginning to fall down my face as my cheeks begin to blush. A few seconds later, I hear the familiar beeping of a parachute and look up to see a notebook and pen of my own.

I quickly scribble down a few words, and hold it up for Winnie to see. She smiles, and I smile back, turning the paper so I can read over what I wrote.

'Hi Winnie'

* * *

**Avrie L'reaux, 17, District Eight Female**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

I'll be honest, not having Armada, Eira, and Shay is a bit of a bummer, but I guess I could be better of without them. They were good people, and I simply am not. They were not meant for these Games, but I honestly believe I have what it takes to win this damn thing, especially since as far as I know there are only ten of us in the arena.

Not only that, Arnette nor Eden were among those ten, which means my chances just went up by a lot. There's no one in the arena that is a real threat to me, so as long as I play smart, and the Gamemakers don't do anything stupid, I have this in the bag.

I even already have my first kill, and that's something. Even if it was that little girl from Seven, I still had the mental strength to take another life, and it's had little effect on me so far.

I mean sure I feel something. She was only a kid, but she was also a kid who was never going to make it out of here, and I gave her a quick way out, which isn't something I could have guaranteed had I left her alive. I feel like I did her a favour, and I guess that's what's keeping me sane.

I know the others are somewhere, I've seen a few of their faces in the sky, but I'm just not sure where. They definitely were not at the bloodbath, but they have to be somewhere! A different arena perhaps? I guess it doesn't bother me, because until I actually see one of them in this arena, they aren't a threat to me.

I kick the ground frustratingly, causing a large amount of sand to go flying into a nearby tree. That's all I've been doing since the bloodbath, wondering through these trees aimlessly. I need to get some sort of game plan going, or I'll get caught off guard and that certainly won't help my chances.

I think back to the giant black wall I had seen at the bloodbath. If I could find that again, I could follow that until I get a better sense of the arena, and then find somewhere to camp out.

Retracing my steps, I attempt to head back to where I last saw the wall, which was at the bloodbath. I continue on at a steady pace, jumping over roots and dodging trees until I suddenly hear something and drop myself to the ground.

It's silent for a few minutes, and then I hear it again. It sounds like something between a mixture of a moan, and a grasp for breath. Whatever it is, it sounds human. Hopefully.

I slide myself behind a tree, and standup, peeking around the corner. At first I don't see anything except for a small clearings surrounded by the same boring trees I'd seen since I got here.

But then I see it. I remember reading something about it in training, but the name totally escapes me. It's large, and dark brown, with giant tusks on the top of it's head with many different points, making it almost look like a claw. It's nose is long, and it's lips are rather large. It stands on all fours, but it's back is easily as tall as me.

It doesn't look threatening, but I'm not stupid enough to trust anything in this arena. Especially since it's been nothing but boring so far.

I hear the moan again, and notice that it doesn't come from the mutt standing in front of me. My eyes scan the surrounded area, and I can't help but smirk when I see the tip of a bare foot sticking out from behind a tree. A bare human foot.

I snap off the nearest branch from the tree I'm hiding behind, and then wait a few moments before peeking around it. I can see that the creature is on edge, but the stupid thing is looking the other way, right at the other tributes tree.

I throw the branch as hard as I can, and smirk when it hits the tributes tree dead in the centre. The creature roars to life, charging the tree. The girls makes the worse decision of her life, by stepping out from behind the tree, and the creature flies right into her, using it's horns to throw the girl to the side before charging past her and out of sight.

"Smart," I chuckle as I move to stand over the bleeding girl. There's blood dripping from the side of her head, where it looks like she smacked it against something, and her leg is covered in blood and bruises, all surrounding a small incision.

"You are really not having a good time," I mock, motioning down to her leg. Ebba doesn't say a word, reaching for her trident that lays a little to the side of her, but I quickly kick it out of her reach.

"Leave me to die in peace," she grunts, glaring up at me.

"I can't do that," I smirk, stepping down on her injured leg. She let's out a loud scream, and I cringe slightly at the sound. It disgusts me, but I can't deny the adrenaline running through my veins. I happen to love it.

Ebba pathetically attempts to kick me with her good leg, but I quickly step out of the way, purposely stepping down hard on her hand until I hear a cracking sound.

"Is this all you ever wanted it to be Ebba? Was this worth volunteering?" She doesn't respond, instead biting her lip and looking to the side.

I wiggle my curved blade in front of her face, still standing on her hand. Suddenly she brings her good leg up, and knees me in the back of my knee, brining me to my knees. Without hesitation she uses her other hand to punch me squire in the throat, which sends me falling to the ground.

I can feel her moving beside me, and attempt to get up and stop her, but by the time I catch my breath and stand up, she's already wobbly standing a few feet away from me, trident in hand.

"And suddenly we have a fair fight," she says, the hint of a grin on her face.

"I wouldn't say fair," I smile back, pulling a second blade from my bag.

With adrenaline coursing through me, I charge her before she can even think of throwing her trident. She seems taken back, and shakily raises her trident to defend herself, but her injuries prove to be effecting her a lot more than she'd like to let on.

I dodge the trident, and tackle her into a nearby tree, hearing the loud thud as her head collides with the trunk.

She brings her knee up into my stomach, sending me back a few steps. I don't allow her time to recollect herself though, throwing myself up against her once again knocking her head into the tree.

It's gushing blood now, running all down her face and hair. It makes me wants to throw up, but I don't stop. I stab my blade into her arm carrying the trident, and hear her scream as she drops the weapon to the ground, the dirty sand now covered in blood. Ebba's blood.

She slinks to the floor, back leaning against the tree still. She doesn't fight anymore, she just stares up at me accusingly, and I begin to wonder if she's still completely conscious.

I don't waste anymore time, slamming my blade into the side of her throat, and feeling the blood as it oozes out, covering my hand. A few seconds later and her cannons fires, and it's only then that I pull the blade from her neck, sinking to the ground myself.

Day two and I already have two kills, and one of which was a career. I did it, I killed a career. I can do it, and I will do it.

I always knew I could, but it's a different feeling actually doing it. There's a difference between believing, and actually succeeding, and I have just crossed that line.

Nothing can stop me now.

* * *

**Eira Gray, 17, District Eight**

**Acereader55**

* * *

I keep pumping my arms and force myself to move one leg in front of another. My shoes hit the hard rocky floor and they send echoes all around me. My mind races a million miles per minute as I try to piece together the things that have been laid out in front of me.

Why weren't any of my allies in the same area that I was in? Why were there only 10 of us in a certain area? Why was the Cornucopia smaller than it usually was? Why did I survive and the others didn't?

I wish I had the answers to my questions but I don't. There's no way for me to know the answers to these questions unless I discover them on my own or unless I win and watch the games from the outside.

I stop running for a quick second and bend my body over and out my hands on my legs. I bow my head and try to catch my breath as I've been running for way too long without a break. I've never done this much physical activity before and it's taking a toll on my body. I don't know how much longer I can keep running without giving myself an extended break.

I stop to pick my head up and look at the things that are surrounding me. I seem to have stumble into a small little cave that is made entirely of brown and tan stone. It got much cooler inside of this cave and for that I am grateful. The sun is way too hot outside and I can't run in that forever.

I walk further into the cave and notice that some of the rocks have been displaced by something other than my feet. There is even a specific path that someone has taken through this cave as most of the rocks are displaced in a definite pattern. But it seems as if there is more than one person that has come through her because the path that the rocks have left are wide enough for two people to get through.

I immediately grow more cautious than before. I may have been able to handle one person on my own but there is probably no chance that I'll be able to take on two people, especially if it's some of the Careers that I saw back at the Bloodbath. I take the knife out of the hold in my belt that I managed to grab as I ran off from the Bloodbath and put it front of me.

As I'm walking further into the cave, I decide to grab a rock off of the wall that is big enough to be used as a back up weapon in case something goes wrong with my knife and I need to give someone a good smack to the head, kind of like my mother did to me when I did something wrong as a child, though she never used a rock.

I can hear the sound of sniffling and crying as I reach what I presume to be the end of the cave. I ready my knife in front of me and peek around the edge of the wall that I am currently hiding behind.

I can make out the shape of two girls, one on the floor crying and the other one standing above her holding her shoulders and she appears to be trying to cheer up the crying girl. If I can remember correctly, the only girls that were aligned with each other that were in my arena were the Ten girl, Three girl, and the smaller girl. Thank God it wasn't any of the Career girls because I'd be screwed if it was.

"Corlis, you have to stop crying," the Three girl says. "If you keep crying you'll give our spot away, and then we'll both end up like Maelle." At the mention of the name Maelle, the Ten girl proceeds to break down and cry even further, which only frustrates the Three girl more. I'm assuming Maelle is the other girl that was apart of their alliance, and she must have perished in the Bloodbath. She always seemed to be like the leader of their group.

"I-I can't he-help it Savvy." The Ten girl is racking with sobs as she tries to get her words out. It's quite sad, really. "Sh-She was the o-one that held us to-together."

Savvy, which I guess is the Three girl's name, whispers something into her ear and gives her a tight squeeze with her hands on her shoulders, and then starts to move my way.

_Shit_. If she sees me then I'm as good as dead. I begin to back up slowly so as to not attract that much attention, but I kick a stray rock that bounces off the walls of the cave and the Three girl immediately comes rushing towards me.

"Who's there?" Savvy demands as she holds up a sharp looking rock right at my face. Her eyes widen when she realizes that I have a knife in my hand and I can see that she has grown considerably more weary than she was seconds ago.

"I'm Eira," I say. "From District Eight. And I don't want any trouble. In fact, I'm here to help."

Savvy looks at me suspiciously, and rightfully so. I would be very cautious if a complete stranger with a knife who was creeping on me just offered to help me out. But I'm being genuine. I don't like it out on my own, and I know that I wouldn't be able to survive by myself. I don't want to have to kill anyone if I don't absolutely have to, and this whole situation could be completely avoided.

"Were you the one that was aligned with two little kids?" Savvy asks.

"Yes, Shay and Armada." I reply. Saying their names makes me feel really sad and even a little bit jealous that they have each other and I have none of my original allies. And it also makes me worry because I have no idea how they're doing, or if they're even alive at this very moment.

"Anyone that's willing to protect two little kids doesn't seem like a mass murderer to me." Savvy says. "I think you're alright to stay with us for the night." She lowers her rock weapon and smiles at me, all the while offering out her hand for me to shake.

I slide my knife back into the holder in my pocket and drop the other rock I was holding in my hand to give her hand a shake.

"Welcome to the team."

* * *

**Eden Ares, 18, District Two**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"This whole thing is going to shit."

I don't even bother trying to lower my voice. I'm not scared of attracting the other tributes, in fact I'd welcome a fight because at least it would help me get out my frustrations. I'm not scared of any of the tributes in this place, they can come all at once and I'd still have the upper hand.

This is not what I signed up for. All of my allies, my Career pack, have been stripped away for a boy who can't win in a fight against an outer district tribute and a girl who doesn't know the first thing about loyalty. This is not how this year is supposed to go down for me. I have trained for far too long to put up with this stupidity.

Career tributes have been notably described to be the Capitol's pets. We've done everything to make every single year of the Hunger Games exciting and successful, and this is how they repay us for our dedication? They're throwing their pets to the wolves, and I feel so helpless to do anything about it I could cry.

"I know, I don't understand it."

I whirl around to face Dierdre, the only Career- and calling her a Career truly is a stretch- that I have left. After the Bloodbath I very nearly decided to walk away and go at this whole thing alone, but in all honesty that scares me just a bit more than staying with Dierdre and Glint did. I've been trained to be part of team, and it's difficult to let go of what you've always expected.

I was warned that volunteering for a Quarter Quell was always a risky move, but I thought that the only loop they'd throw me would be the increased number of tributes. In all the years of Hunger Games that I have watched in my lifetime, which is all of them, I have never seen them do anything like this. It's simply wrong, to separate all of us in whatever way they have and not even give us an explanation for it.

"Please don't talk to me," I spit at her. "I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on."

She looks a bit hurt by the words, but I try not to let myself react to it. I am not her friend, and I'm not even sure if we are going to be allies for very much longer. She's tried to talk to me like she did in training, acting as if nothing has changed since she chose to join the other pack, but I'm not having it. One thing that I would have thought she would have figured out by now is that I am not one to give my trust twice. So if you're lucky enough to get it once you better not drop it.

"You don't think I'm trying to do the same thing?"

I roll my eyes at her. "I'm not even sure why I'm still here and willing to protect you. You're not even part of my pack anymore."

"Excuse me?" The look on her face could only be described as disbelief. "Do you not remember what happened this morning. I killed that guy, not you. You don't have to protect me and no one is asking you to stay with me. I just thought we would have a better shot if we worked together but not if you're going to pretend you're so much better than me."

"I am better than you," I say immediately and almost just as quickly I regret saying it. I know that I shouldn't feel anything towards Dierdre, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. She hurt me and she has to know that I will probably never be able to trust her again. It's easier to act like a bitch towards her rather than explaining how I feel. I've never really been good at that.

Her eyes change, and it's not difficult to notice the transition from hurt to fury. "You can think that all you want, princess, but it's going to come as a real surprise when you realize that you're not."

"You have a lot of confidence for being the biggest failure in Career history," I spit back. How dare she talk to me like that? Even though I know it's wrong, the words just seem to pour out of my mouth. "Don't think that people haven't been talking about your little scene at the interviews. Pair that with your training score and even I can't believe you didn't jump off your plate just to save the rest of us the effort of killing you."

She doesn't say anything and I know I've crossed an invisible line in her mind. I put my hand over my mouth, an apology at the tip of tongue that I force myself to hold back. I refuse to apologize to her. If my words have hurt her, well good they should have. Now we're even at least.

She finally looks up at me and I can see that all of the fight has left her eyes. "I shouldn't have chosen them over you and I'm sorry. If you want me to leave or whatever, the message has been heard loud and clear. I just thought we could be a good team."

"You're right," I shrug, not giving in no matter how much of me wants to just let her off the hook. "We could have been a good team, but you made a choice. I will work with you for now, but don't mistake that for anything more than it is."

She nods and it's not hard to see the disappointment in her eyes. "I'm sorry. Even if it doesn't matter, I still am. Maybe you won't forgive me but I wish you would."

I consider her invitation, but once again I can't let myself. I just want this conversation to end before I give in to her. "We better make a plan, we can't afford another late night ambush. It's going to be a long couple weeks."

* * *

**Xylia Devrine, 18, District Twelve**

**Acereader55**

* * *

This is so inconvenient.

As if I have the time to run around in these uncomfortable boots in the blistering heat with two full backpacks on my back. This is so unnecessary.

Why couldn't they have been more creative and made an indoor arena where I wasn't concerned that my body would melt to death? I don't even want to begin to tire my mind by trying to think up the reason behind there only being ten people at the bloodbath. To be completely honest, it doesn't even really affect me considering I have no allies that could have been separated from me.

Turns out being a loner was the best thing to do. Now I don't have to drive myself insane wondering where my allies are and if they're even alive, all the while trying to keep myself healthy and alive. Nope, I don't have to worry about those trivial things. I can focus on one thing and one thing only: me.

I continue to walk through the stony walls and avoid the craters that seem to be popping up all around me. The good news is, in some of the craters there are little shallow ponds of water. The bad news is, the water is hot as hell, and there's no way for me to tell if the water is actually safe enough for me to consume.

But at least I know that there is water some where in this arena, and if I actually manage to do something, then possibly I'll be able to gain some sponsors and they'll sponsor me a purifying agent.

I continue to weave my way around the cracks and the many holes that are littered around the floor of this arena before I come to a large wall at the end of the path that I've been taking. Immediately I run over to the wall and crouch done in the shady region of it.

I let the two backpacks I took at the Bloodbath slide off my back and down my arms and quickly unzip them and spill the contents onto the floor. I sift through them to see if I can find anything useful, and luckily I do.

I see two long ropes that are coiled up and tied together as well as a hook that might be used for climbing the steep rocky walls of this arena. I also manage to see some packs of dried fruit and some overcooked beef jerky. It may not be much but at least it's something. I throw those to the side and sift through the contents some more, before spotting something _very_useful.

I pick up the belt that has been folded over twice and examine it. Not only is it a belt, it is a belt filled with knives in all of the little slots that can hold knives. I may not be the best with throwing knives, but I certainly know how to use them well enough to where I can seriously injure somebody. I can't believe I was lucky enough to grab this!

The rest of the items that were in the bag were utterly useless except for two empty water bottles, a filled water bottle, and a small box of first aid materials. Lucky enough for me, the contents that are actually useful all fit into one of the backpacks and I am able to discard the other backpack then and there.

I sling the backpack back over my shoulder and continue my trek, getting further and further away from where the Bloodbath actually occurred. I can see trees very close to me, and I begin to move slightly faster considering I want to be able to have some cover during the night to sleep and trees would be the perfect solution.

Before I am able to get too close to the region with trees, I begin to hear voices. At first, I think they're just inside my head and that I've gone crazy, but once I see shadows in front of me I realize that these voices belong to real people, and I'm in real danger.

I run behind one of the largest rocks near me and make sure that I don't make any noise as I crouch down low. I scan the area, waiting for the people to show themselves to see what exactly I'm up against.

When I see the trio of girls, I instantly breathe a quiet sigh of relief. They're exiting the mouth of a cave and they seem to be getting along pretty well, laughing and smiling at each other, bar the quiet one in the back who smiles occasionally but doesn't speak. If I remember correctly, two of them were allied with the other Three girl, as I don't remember the Eight girl being apart of the original alliance, but I could be wrong.

I don't see any weapons visible from here, but I'm airing on the side of caution and I have to make sure that they don't have weapons. I pick up a decent sized rock that was next to me and throw it to the left side of the girls, and once it hits the ground two of them pull out weapons very quickly.

_Shit._

If they didn't have weapons this would have made the whole ordeal a lot easier. But that's life, and I'll have to make the best of it. I know I can't just turn around and leave, as the Capitol has seen me spotting them, and if I run away now they'll think I'm weak and nobody will ever sponsor me. No, I have to do something. I have to prove myself to everyone. I need to do it.

It's about to get bloody.

* * *

_**Glint Grayson, District One**_

_**Regan Volke, District Seven**_

_**Ebba Farley, District Four**_

* * *

**Song: Not About Angels by Birdy. **

* * *

**A/N: Here we are! Yes it has been over a month now and no we do not have a good excuse. We had some difficulties with getting these parts written but thankfully that's been (somewhat) sorted out. I want to say that we'll be updating more regularly from now on but I think that would be a little repetitive from all of my other author's notes and I'm trying to spice things up a bit. Updates will come as soon as they do. **

**There truly isn't much to say. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing so far and keep it up because I love reading them and they help us decide things as well. I'll leave a couple of questions down below to help get you started if you do choose to review. **

_**Do you have any plot predictions? Predictions for how the alliances will work out?**_

_**Who do you think will be the next to go?**_

**That is all, hopefully update soon but I'm not going to promise because I really do not know. Hope you all enjoyed and see you next update. **


	15. Empty

**Fallout by Mariana's Trench**

_An empty room,_  
_I'm empty too_  
_And everything reminds me of you._

* * *

**Tatum Albright, 16, District Six**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

My heart hasn't stopped racing since the moment I ran into the boy from Five- Gideon. I'm not proud of the thoughts that have been festering in my mind, but I'm not about to stop them either. I've seen every year of the Hunger Games since I was born, and I know what happens to alliances eventually. One like ours that was hastily formed and feels about as awkward as it probably looks, well I can only imagine how long it is expected to last.

He's notably bigger than I am, and I know the outcome that people will be expecting. Surely they can all guess that this alliance isn't going to last, and when it does go to shit they're going to expect him to come out victorious. I'm just the little girl that cried for the entire train ride here, maybe they don't know about that but I'm sure they could make a guess.

They won't be expecting me to be the one to make the first move. Yesterday I made it look like I needed Gideon, so he won't be expecting it either. He doesn't even know that I have a weapon, a rather small knife that I went back for on the first day. These make it the perfect time to do it.

I look at him from my place behind him. Just the fact that he hasn't made any move to have me walk beside or in front of him tells me that he has no expectation of danger from me. I don't particularly want to have to hurt him, but this is the Hunger Games and this is how people win. I _need _to win.

As silently as I can I reach into my back pocket and take out the small knife. Without even looking down I remember the look of it. It's no longer than the palm of my hand and sharp on both edges. The handle is short, just long enough that I won't be at risk of hurting myself while using it. It's small but it will do the job, that I am certain of.

I quicken my pace ever so slightly so that I can get closer to him. I don't dare get too close. If he happens to look behind him my plan will be over. Gideon can't get even a whiff of what I have planned for him or it will never work. The element of surprise is the only hope I have on taking him down without risking serious injury. I intend to take full advantage of it.

I don't give myself another second to think my plan over. I've done enough planning and now is the time to act, before he can get any ideas of doing the same to me. I clench my palm around the handle and raise it slowly. Without more than a second of pause I thrust it forward with all of the strength in my tired body.

I'm not certain when exactly it was that he turned around, but my knife never hit its intended mark. Instead, his hand clasps over the blade and keeps it from moving forward. My eyes go wide as they lock with his. He doesn't even look shocked. The only emotion I can take from his face is disappointment, an expression I am used to seeing on my parents' faces on those nights I would come home late.

In this moment it seems that neither of us quite know what to do. The sight of the blood that is dribbling from his palm gives me an idea. I rip the blade swiftly from his grip and he bellows as the knife slides through his skin.

I don't think fast enough to run. Why, I'm not sure, but I didn't. Like an idiot I just stand there staring at Gideon. Instead of taking the small advantage I had I freeze.

He doesn't.

In a matter of seconds he pins me to a tree, squeezing the bones of my wrist until I am forced to let the knife drop from my grip. His eyes are like fire as he stares down at me, his breath so close that I can feel its warmth on my cheek.

"What in the hell did you think you were going to do with that?"

The question catches me off guard. He pins both of my hands above me, the rough bark of the tree biting into the soft skin. His free hand reaches for my throat. I cannot even bring myself to struggle against him. My whole body is frozen. My mind is numb.

"Ungrateful bitch," he spits and I close my eyes. Tears slip from my eyelids and I don't even bother to stop them. I can hear the hatred in his voice, nothing like the gentleness from yesterday. The change is terrifying.

I try to speak but he only tightens his grip on my throat. There is nothing worthwhile that I could say to him, and I realize that I don't even want to apologize. He will not let me go either way, at least not if he is smart, because he doesn't know that I wouldn't come after him again later. I was not going to let him go no matter the kindness he showed me yesterday. He will not let me go no matter what I say, so I will say nothing.

No matter how much I try and detach myself from what is happening, the pain is nothing like I could ever bear. His hand releases my arms, joining the other at my throat. His grip tightens further and, just when I thought it couldn't be possible, tightens even further. I don't even have to tell my body to fight back this time, my hands reach for him automatically. My fingernails dig into his skin and I feel blood, but that sensation fades too quickly as my vision blackens.

I will not apologize, but I will not hate him. That is what I resolve. Would the situation have been reversed, I would have killed me too.

* * *

**Braden Kellis, 18, District Two Male**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

I'm upset, confused, angry even, but I don't let it show. My face remains frozen with the same blank expression it has since I volunteered for these Games, nothings ever going to change that.

If I showed my feelings, I'd be showing my weaknesses, and in these Games that's pretty much suicide.

Ebba is dead. That's a fact, her face was in the sky last night, but how?

That girl couldn't take one thing seriously, but I've seen her use that trident of hers, and she was nothing short of deadly. Heck, she even scared me a little. And I know she killed that District Ten boy in the bloodbath, which means she's willing enough, so who could have killed her?

I made sure to keep track of who was in my arena, and whose faces I've seen in the sky, and if I'm not mistaken, there's only six of us left in here.

There's no way on earth the little boy from District Three killed her, and I can't see the District Nine girl being able to beat her, which leaves the pair from One, and the girl from Eight.

Knowing Ebba like I do, I know there's no way in hell she would ever loose to an outer District tribute, so I'm thinking the safe bet would be to assume it was Jasper and Raleigh.

There's two of them, and only one of Ebba. She really stood no chance.

There's a sudden sting in my stomach as I realize that I had I been there, Ebba would have stood a shot. Her and I could have destroyed those idiots from One, and she'd still be alive.

But then I remember it was Ebba who abandoned me in the bloodbath, and left me on my own. She was the one who ended our alliance, not me.

I'm not sure what stings more, the fact that she's dead, or the fact that she left me to die, and I'm still here, hurt over her death.

Ebba was a bitch, I try and think, but am quickly am consumed with guilt. Ebba wasn't a bitch, she was scared, and she didn't want to die. That's why she ran, and that's why she left me.

But she died anyways, because Raleigh and Jasper are monsters, and they need to die.

I almost laugh to myself as I realize how much of a cliche I'm being right now.

I can't count how many Hunger Game's I've watched where a tribute loses their ally, and then goes on a revenge mission to avenge their killer and ends up dying themselves.

I'm not an idiot, and this isn't a revenge mission. Raleigh and Japer are threats, and they'd be on my target list anyways. But now I think I'll take them our sooner rather than later, I just have to figure out how.

I hop down from the short tree I had been previously sitting on, and peer out at the sandy beech just past the tree line. This arena is simple really; a sandy forest leading to an even sandier beach, which appears to have a small island right dead centre of the lake.

I bet there's something useful on that island, but the only tribute I would assume would know how to swim is now dead, and there's no way for any of us to make it there.

I step onto the beach, knife in hand and ready to throw, scanning along the tree line searching for any signs of life.

When I don't see anything, I continue to take cautious steps towards the water, ready to dart back into the woods at the first sign of trouble.

I'm sure the guys back in District Two are having a good laugh, watching as one of District Two's most qualified careers walks around like a frightened mouse.

This isn't how the Games are supposed to go; it's day three and I'm already on my own, no career pack to help me, no allies at all in fact.

I'm completely on my own, which leaves me at a disadvantage.

I continue my cautious steps until I reach the water, waking in until it reaches my ankles. It stings as it touches my bare skin, and at first I think it could be acidic or something, but then I realize it's just the cold temperature of the water.

On day one I bet it was warm, but it's been gradually cooling of, and clearly so has the water.

I dig through my backpack until I find the almost empty canister, and quickly finish it's remains, before filling it back up with the lakes water, and purifying it with the little drops I found at the bloodbath.

I'm just zipping the backpack up when I feel the sudden impact of something hitting my back, and I throw myself into the freezing water, dropping the backpack in the process.

I pull myself back up, knife in hand as I scan the area behind me.

The beach is empty, other than a single rock that lays just behind where I had previously been standing.

My stomach drops as I realize someone must have thrown that at me.

I'm fucked. I have no where to go; I can't swim backwards, and if I walk forwards whoever threw the rock will be waiting to attack me.

I can't move, and I can't fight my way out of this, because I can't even locate whose trapped me.

Using my foot I pick the backpack out of the water and arm myself with two other throwing knives, before slinging the pack onto my back.

With nothing else to do, I call out to my new little friend. "Hello?"

After a few moments of silence, I almost begin to think I had missed the rock when I had initially scanned the beach, as was imagining the impact on my back.

But a few moments later I see another rock come flying out of the woods, landing in the water a few feet to my left.

"Not such a good shot that time," I joke, my eyes scanning the woods where the rock had come from.

After a few more minutes of nothing, I begin to get fed up with waiting, and cautiously take a few steps forward.

When I reach the sand and nothing happens, I continue walking until another rock comes flying my way, this time though I have to jump out of the way to avoid being hit directly in the face.

I quickly look up as I hear a loud cackle, and pinpoint the area as to where it's coming from.

"I know where you are," I say seriously, pointing my knife in the general direction.

Again another rock comes flying my way, and their aim seems to be getting better as I have to duck down to avoid being hit.

Suddenly there's movement from the trees as I see a tall girl with bright orange hair leap from a tree, and begin to sprint into the forest.

At first I consider it to be a trap, but the only tribute with hair like that in this arena is the girl from District Eight, and none of her allies are in here.

So I take off after her, readying my knifes to take their first life.

This is how the Games are supposed to be. I'm the career, and I'm the one who should be doing the hunting, not prancing around the arena like a scared little chicken.

I'm the threat, and I'm the soon to be victor, and it's about time I started acting like it.

* * *

**Corlis Kembrey, 17, District Ten**

**Acereader55**

* * *

This doesn't feel right.

The Eight girl is currently chatting up Savvy and I don't feel like this was the right move for us. Why are we bringing in someone to our alliance? Especially after Maelle just died, I don't think bringing someone else into the alliance will make this ordeal any easier for me. I barely am able to keep it together and stay sane after witnessing just one of my allies death's, I don't think I'll be able to handle seeing another one die right in front of me again.

Don't get me wrong, the Eight girl is really nice and she doesn't seem like she's a big threat to us, considering Savvy is up there smiling and talking with her. If Savvy thinks she's worth keeping around and won't stab us in the back, then I'll believe the same thing.

Savvy was always closer to Maelle than I, but I think that after Maelle dying, Savvy and I have become a lot closer than ever because we knew we only had each other. And I still think that we will be together as a duo even with the new addition to the alliance. I believe in Savvy and Savvy believes in me… at least I hope so.

"You doing okay Corlis?"

Savvy's question breaks my silent train of thought and I look up from the rocky ground to see Savvy's smiling face looking back at me.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I flash a quick and very small smile, and I see Savvy's face turn to concern for a few quick seconds before turning back to her smiley face as she goes back to talking with our new ally.

I bring my head back down to the ground and look at the cracks in the rocky terrain as my feet scurry over them. At least this arena isn't too unbearable; the rocky terrain isn't too hard to navigate around, most of the arena is in open space so you can't really be taken by surprise, and there are several water holes scattered around the arena that we could use to drink as long as Savvy says it's safe to drink from.

I put all of my trust and faith in Savvy, and maybe that's a mistake on my part but I honestly do trust her and I really do need her. After Maelle's death, I've become even more withdrawn, closed off, and weaker. Savvy's the one that's pulling all the weight, and while I feel bad for making her do that I know it's the only way for me to survive. I just can't function or do this on my own. I need someone to be with me.

"Stop." Savvy reaches her arm out in front of me and I ram my body into it before I can manage to tell my feet to stop moving. Savvy and the Eight girl (who's name escapes me even though I know Savvy told me), are looking around at the dip in the ground in front of us.

"Is there something down there?" I ask, maybe a little too loudly because Savvy immediately shoots me a glare that makes me think I did something wrong. She puts her pointer finger up to her lips and shushes me. She points her remaining pointer finger at the dip in the ground and takes her knife out of her belt, and starts slowly inching towards the dip.

The Eight girl pulls out her knife as well and follows Savvy, but when I try and follow Savvy shoos me back and signals to me to watch their backs. I'm a little discouraged that Savvy would rather have a stranger go with her to see what's happening than me who's been with her the entire time. Does she trust her more than me? Does she think I can't handle it? Does she think I'm useless?

All of these questions are buzzing through my head at an incredible speed, and I can't even process any answers to the questions I so desperately want answered. But, so as to not anger Savvy unnecessarily, I do what I am asked to do and turn away from them, keeping a careful eye behind us as well as occasionally glancing back to see how they're doing.

I still see nothing, so I turn around again to see how close they've gotten to the dip, and I see that they're at the edge of it. Savvy peaks her head over the edge, and the second she does I see a hand fly upwards and punch her square in the chin.

Savvy grunts and rolls backwards from the dip, and our other ally swings her knife downwards towards the hand the punched Savvy, but the owner of the hand moved out of the way and quickly pulled herself out of the ditch. Savvy was still on the ground, clearly in a lot of pain and I quickly rush over to her aid while the Eight girl is going back and forth with this new girl in some hand to hand action.

I crouch down to get next to Savvy to make sure she's okay. She has blood rushing down her lip and chin, and she definitely seems a bit dazed considering she was just punched in the face. When I turn back to the fight that was going on a few feet away from me, I notice that the new girl is definitely gaining the upper hand, but I can't bring myself to go around and help the Eight girl. I'm too scared I'll be hurt, or worse killed, and I still don't really trust her.

The other girl, who I think is the Twelve girl but I can't be sure, swings her leg out and kicks the Eight girl in the knees, making her legs crumble out from underneath her and she stumbles to the ground. The Twelve girl pounces on her moment of weakness and straddles her, pinning her lings down with her body and her arms with her hands. The Eight girl is struggling but I can tell her energy is down low, and she can't seem to fling the Twelve girl off of her.

Quickly, the Twelve girl removes one of her hands from the other girl's arms and slams the palm of her hand down on her forehead, smashing the back of the Eight girl's head into the stone floor. The Eight girl loses all of her spark and fight immediately as blood starts to leak onto the rock floor, and she picks her up by her hair and brings her knife to her throat.

Savvy immediately reacts and brings herself up from off of the ground and starts to pull at my shirt.

"We have to go; we have to go _now_ Corlis," She really tugs at my shirt, but I can't bring myself to move my feet. I'm transfixed on the fight that's about to end in another one of my ally's death.

Without even blinking an eye, the Twelve girl brings her knife across the Eight girl's throat and blood pours out of her neck and all over her killer and a cannon sounds in the near distance.

She just killed my ally… Another one of my allies is dead and I did nothing to stop it…

Without even resisting, Savvy yanks me from my spot as the Twelve girl's attention shifts to us. Savvy is holding onto my arm as she beings to force me to run with her, away from the twelve girl and away from the dead body of my short lived ally.

I don't know how much longer I can do this.

I don't even comprehend what's happening as everything turns into a blur as I run away from the scars of my mind with Savvy's hand around my arm.

* * *

**Arnette Lyrin, 18, District Two**

**Acereader55**

* * *

Stupid bitch Zaria.

I hiss in pain as I pour more water over the wound in my thigh. It stings a hell of a lot more than I thought it would, but from what I can tell there isn't any permanent damage done to my leg and no major artery was hit.

Not only did she manage to injure me, she also managed to take out my one and only ally in this arena, Atlas. At least I think it was her that took him out considering I told him to go after her, but maybe someone else got to him first. Either way, Zaria is still a bitch and I'm still injured and without an ally.

But I'm alive. And not to mention I have the entire Cornucopia to myself, without anyone else to take away it's supplies. I have them all to myself and I don't have to share it with anyone else, which is something I'm definitely okay with.

I stand up from the crate that I was sitting on and walk into the mouth of the Cornucopia, searching for the medical kit that I had used earlier to disinfect the wound that Zaria gave me. I find it in the back of the structure, and pop it open and search for wrap to cover the wound from the elements.

I may look like a dumb broad badass, but I know a thing or two about medicine and how to survive out here on my own. I didn't waste half of my life training in that dull center for nothing, I definitely picked up a few things about survival other than just using my brute strength to kill other people.

I tightly wrap the gauze around my thigh and make sure that it doesn't fall off or unwrap by jogging around the area that I'm camped out in currently. The only thing that does suck about being alone is you have to do _everything_. Always at training there was someone else to help you out if you didn't want to do something, or if you weren't sure on what to do someone else could give you their opinion. But here, I'm completely alone and have no allies to support me or back me up when I'm unsure about something.

There are obviously pros and cons to having allies and to being alone, but right now I'm honestly indifferent. I'm sure as time goes on I'll be more and more annoyed that I have to do everything by myself, but for now I'm enjoying the fact that I am my own boss and nobody can challenge me or control me.

What does definitely suck is the fact I have nobody to guard the camp if I want to go out and hunt some tributes. If I leave this place and someone is watching and waiting for me to go, nobody is here to defend my supplies and hold the place down. Eventually, I'm going to have to move from this place because if I stay here too long, the Capitol will get bored with me and the Gamemakers will send mutts after me and I'd really rather not have to deal with that.

But for now, I have nothing to do other than sit here, eat some food, and tend to my leg. It's only the second day in the arena, and I really don't have the need to do something crazy at this point. Give it some time and I'm sure I'll get antsy and feel the need to hunt, but for now I can just relax and just check around this area to make sure I'm completely alone. I feel just like a queen on her throne.

Long live Arnette Lyrin. Long live the queen.

* * *

**Raleigh Torrance, 18, District One Female**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

I guess I'm just angry.

Angry at the Capitol, angry at the other tributes, and just a little bit angry at myself.

This is not how the Games were supposed to go. There was supposed to be a bloody fight to the death between the two career packs, that ended in Arnette's death, but that never happened, and she's still alive.

The Capitol had to fuck it up all up by separating us into adjoining arenas. What the hell were they thinking? They don't get their bloody fight, and I don't get the satisfaction of killing Arnette, really it's a lose lose for everyone involved.

And what do these separate arenas mean? Is there going to be more than one victor, or will we all be taken out of these arenas and faced with the surviving tributes from other arenas? I have no idea, and that's killing me.

I'm so confused, and I feel lost, and I hate it. I hate not having a plan, and I hate not knowing what's happening, but here I am, and I'm still here to win, because people still need to realize that Raleigh Torrance is more than just a dumb blonde.

I still need to play the Game, and I still need to play it better than anyone else.

"Jasper, could you honestly walk any slower?" I yell back, turning to see Jasper at least 25 feet behind me.

He doesn't respond, as he's recently stopped doing. Instead he picks up the pace, and in no time he's almost matching mine.

"So, do you wanna talk about it?" He looks up questioningly, and I give him a little smirk.

"You're obviously upset about something. I mean you've barely spoken to me all morning."

Again he doesn't respond, and I fight back the urge to smack him upside the head. These Games are going to get a whole lot more boring if Japer begins ignoring me, because while he may be just a pawn, he is my only company, and I do need him.

"Jasper," I say again, this time stopping in my tracks.

"What?" He finally says after a few moments of silence.

"Leave if you like. There's nothing stop you," I say, fed up with his attitude. Who does he think he is? I'm a person, and I deserve respect.

"I don't want to leave you Raleigh, I want to go home."

His sudden confession shocks me. Jasper Graves, the annoying, prepared, stoic little shit that he is wants to go home? Out of any of the careers, I never would have guessed Jasper would be the one to break, if that's what's happening.

"You've got a few more obstacles before you can do that."

He nods his head, but doesn't say another word. I chose to let it go, turning back around and continuing on our trek to wherever the hell we're going.

I don't really have a destination in mind - there's really not that much to this arena. There's the lake, with the island in the middle, and then there's the beach, and then the forest. It's all rather simple, with very few mutts that I've seen.

It's almost funny really, that the second the thought leaves my head I hear the low growl from something that very clearly wasn't human.

Jasper stops in his tracks, and I follow suit, crouching down and out of sight.

I want to ask Jasper if he sees anything, but I know any sound I make will just bring whatever it is over to us, and quite honestly I don't have any time or desire to fight with anything that isn't another tribute.

Some careers love the thrill of a kill, but the only reason I'd kill is to further myself in this Game. I want to go home just as bad as the other tributes, volunteer or not.

"I think it's gone," I hear Jasper whisper after a few more moments of silence.

He stands up but I wait a few seconds after, to make sure that whatever it was, wasn't just waiting for us to reveal ourselves.

When the coast is clear, I stand up and quickly scan the area for any signs of danger.

"What was that?" I ask when my eyes find nothing.

"Do we really wanna know?"

"Not really," I laugh, and to my surprise Jasper smiles back.

I'm about to comment on his smile when I suddenly hear an all too familer growl, and turn around just in time to see a black blur leaping at me from the nearest tree.

I immediately throw myself to the side, and turn to see Jasper doing the same.

Our eyes meet, and neither of us even have to say it before we're both on our feet and running in the opposite direction of the thing.

The sweat begins to drip from my forehead as I continue to pump my legs as fast as they'll take me.

Every few seconds I hear the familiar growl, almost as if to remind me they're still there.

As I continue to run, the creatures seem to multiply. Every few seconds I hear the growl coming from a different direction, and I can barely hear myself think over the pounding of multiple sets of running paws.

At some point I look over and realize I've lost Jasper, and a tiny part of me wishes he tripped and is being eaten alive, only so the creatures will turn all of their attention from me onto him, and I can make it out of this alive.

I glance to the ground, and notice the dirt slowly becoming sandier as I run, and an idea suddenly comes to mind and I begin to push harder.

There's only one thing that can save my from these stupid things, I'm just praying they don't know how to swim.

It feels like hours pass before I finally reach the beach, and when I do I don't stop running until the water is well over my head and I'm struggling to stay above the surface.

But when I look back at the beach, I see there are several creatures standing on shore hissing and growling every time the water nears their feet.

I smile and allow myself to relax. They can't swim, which means I'm safe.

I allow myself to really look at the creatures, and notice the freakish resemblance to the house cat that used to be all the rave back in District One.

They look almost identical, except their five times the size, and every single of them are black, with larger claws that could almost be considered talons.

I slowly paddle my way closer to shore until my feet can just skim the bottom, and I don't move any closer to shore until all of the creatures have disappeared back into the woods, and even then I wait a good half hour more before leaving.

No way in hell am I risking getting caught by those things again.

I allow myself to dry off as best I can before re-entering the woods, walking carefully and quietly just incase they decided to stick around.

I realize I have no idea where to even look for Jasper, and somewhere along the chase I lost all my supplies, except the two knives that never leave my hand.

I'm completely fucked.

I start to panic, running through the woods frantically looking for any signs of Jasper, or anyone really.

I just need to find someone because I have nothing, and there's no way I'll survive out here like this on my own for long, especially knowing those creatures are with us somewhere.

I can feel tears as the panic continues to set in, and I'm just about to breakdown when I see a broken branch, as if someone had ran past and snapped it.

I begin to run again, this time harder, following the trail of broken branches and stepped on twigs, until I find him.

When I first spot him, he's not looking at me, but I know it's him due to the bloody rapier that hangs off his back.

He's standing behind a bush, but I can tell by the way he's bending the leaves that he's looking at something through the bush. Something that he's not ready to reveal himself too, something like those creatures.

I begin to breath hard again, and Jasper quickly notices, turning around and actually smiling before calling me over.

When I join him at the bush, he looks worried, but points through the bush at whatever he's looking at.

I smile when I see it; standing there starring through the glass is a small figure that could only belong to the little boy from District Three.

"Ready?" I whisper.

* * *

**Winifred Herring, 12, District Twelve**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

I widen my eyes and point frantically behind Toby. As soon as he turns I burst out laughing, covering my mouth as an afterthought in case someone really is nearby. He turns back and crosses his arms, sticking his tongue out at me. I shrug with a wide grin on my face. After a second he rolls his eyes and I know for sure he isn't mad at me. The little smile he's fighting back tells me so.

I didn't think I was ever going to find him, and certainly not like this. I was terrified that one night I would look up into the sky and see his face, without ever having said goodbye. Seeing him is amazing, but the wall between us makes things more difficult. I can't do anything for him but be here, and vice versa. The food I find can't get to him, and I can't hear his annoying voice telling me to calm down. He's here but not really, it's bittersweet.

All we can do is talk to each other by writing things down. I'm not very good at writing, and it takes me a little while to read Toby's tiny printing, but he's patient with me. I wish I would have paid more attention to the lessons we had on the subject, but I guess there is no sense in wishing for something I can't change. Toby doesn't seem to mind waiting for me at least, which is nice. I just wish I could talk like normal to him, but I guess this has to do until I can figure out how to get in there with him.

Toby leans over his notepad to write something down. As I look at the arena behind him, my eyes widen once again. Only this time I'm not messing with him. There is someone there. Two someones, actually.

Toby is still looking down. I lunge as close to the barrier as possible, banging my hands against it wishing more than ever before that he could hear me. My movements must catch his eye because after another second he looks up. A brief look of fright crosses his face, replaced a second later by a sharp look telling to cut it out. I shake my head vigorously, pointing behind him. I'm not messing with you, I want so badly to scream even though I know he won't be able to hear me. Run, Toby, please run!

His brow creases, hopefully understanding that I'm not trying to play this time. I continue to bang on the glass, and finally he looks behind him. It's far too late for running now. I press my hands into the barrier, wishing more than I have ever wished for anything in my life for it to let me through so I can help him. It doesn't budge. I can do nothing and I have never felt so helpless.

It's two of the tributes from District One- the blonde haired girl and the boy that was always hanging around beside her. Both of them look as calm as can be as they approach the place where Toby is sitting across from me. He doesn't move an inch, though I know it wouldn't do much good for him to get up and run now. They've seen him and they're too close now to forget him.

My body is trembling, tears running down my face. I too am frozen in place. I know what's about to happen but I can't leave him now. I can't do anything. I can't help him, I can't look away, I can't wipe that stupid grin off that stupid girl's face. I can only watch as the girl rushes the last few steps towards Toby.

I scream as she grabs the back of his head and slams it forwards into the glass. I can't hear anything. His head hits the barrier a second time. A third time. I scream again. The fourth time leaves a smear of blood across the glass. The girl looks up from Toby and smiles at me. I scream again. And again.

Toby is on the ground, his head coated with red and black on one side. He looks at me for just a second, maybe not even that long, and the sadness becomes overpowered by anger. I slam my fists on the glass, again and again until I see blood. I scream again, actually I'm not even sure if I stopped at all. I hit the ground. It hurts less. I go back to hitting the wall, wishing over and over that the barrier would break and I could snap the girl's neck.

Toby's still alive I can see it in his eyes. He can still be saved, it's still possible I just know it is. I slam my fists on the barrier again and pain shoots up to my shoulders. I have to get to him. I have to save him. I have to kill that stupid girl with her stupid smile. Bash her head into the barrier until her empty head caves in.

I go still when the girl plunges a knife into Toby's shoulder. His body stiffens, but he's still alive I know it. A knife to the shoulder won't kill you. He'll be okay as soon as I get to him. My breathing is tired, and my body refuses to have another go at the barrier. I know I have to break it, that's the only way to get to Toby.

The girl turns and leaves. He's not dead! She's leaving him and he's not dead. He's going to be okay. Battered and bruised and scared out of his mind, but breathing. He'll be alright and I can help him get back to District Three like he wants to so badly.

The boy watches the girl leave, but he doesn't follow suit. Instead he approaches the wall. He looks down at Toby and then up at me. He mouths something, but I don't even want to know what it is. He watched this girl kill Toby and now he's mocking me!?

But his face doesn't look like he's mocking.

He looks down at Toby again. I think he might help him. I pray he will. Until I can get to him at least, then he can screw off back to his psycho ally.

He kneels down beside Toby and pulls a knife out of his belt. All of the colour drains from my face. I scream every word I can think of at the boy, but of course he can't hear me. I bash my hands on the glass. I scream at him to leave my Toby alone.

I can't see what happens next, the boy blocks my view of Toby for a second and when he moves out of the way he has laid Toby's arm across his neck. I can see by the glazed look in Toby's eyes that the boy has killed him. I can't see the wound but I know.

I scream again for him to leave Toby alone and this time he listens. He stands and bows his head towards the boy, then towards me. I scream as he disappears in the same direction of the girl. A wordless, bloody scream.

* * *

**Armada Pruitt, 13, District Eight**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

Both Shay and I jump to our feet when we hear the first scream. It's not far, and the pitch makes me think of the girl from Eleven. She's the youngest of the tributes, and by the sound of things she is in deep trouble.

Neither of us even has to say anything. The second scream makes us jump again and this time we don't hesitate to follow the sound. It briefly crosses my mind that we will be able to do very little if the girl has been found by one of the Careers, or any older tribute really. I don't bother saying anything about it after I hear the third scream.

She is certainly saying something, but I can't make out any specific words. Shay and I pick up our pace. When we get much closer, we can hear something banging on a hard surface of some sort. I'm even more confused when I begin to think about what we're going to find when we reach her. It doesn't matter, Shay is sprinting now so there is no time for discussion.

There isn't much time for us to take the scene in when we arrive. As I suspected, we see the girl from Eleven sitting in a sort of clearing. She faces away from us, and there is someone else there. My blood chills when I squint to get a closer look. A body, not a tribute anymore, lays face up in front of the girl.

Shay moves closer to her, but I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him. I shake my head when he looks back. The girl is simply grieving, she isn't in any danger. There is no reason to play hero when there is no one in need of saving. Shay tilts his head and crosses his arms against his chest. He clearly thinks I am wrong.

"Are you okay?" Shay says. The girl doesn't turn around, so he repeats himself louder this time. She turns around finally and her eyes are wide. Great, not only is she mourning a dead ally but now she probably thinks we're here to kill her.

Her eyes narrow and suddenly I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I could be wrong about her being scared of us, of course. I take a couple steps forward to align myself with Shay.

I don't even notice that the girl has moved until she nearly ploughs into me. I don't have time to so much as put my hands in front of me before she tackles me to the ground. Even though I had thought of the girl as being harmless since she was younger, we're roughly the same size and she keeps me pinned down easily.

She swings at my face and I just make my hands move in time to block her. She lands a pretty good hit on my right ear and it's still ringing as Shay pulls her up off of me. I slowly get up off my back. When a flying leg hits me in the chest I fall back down.

"You're nothing but a no good coward!" The girl screams. "You didn't even try and help him!"

I have no idea what she's talking about, which makes me think that the dead boy might have had more of an impact on her than I'd expected. I scramble away in preparation of another hit. Shay is able to hold her, but just barely.

"Let's get out of here," I say quickly. "Just toss her and run."

"She needs our help," Shay says, huffing as he struggles to keep the girl in place. She manages to free an arm and a wild fist just misses his nose. "And I need yours."

I sigh and carefully walk over to help him. She lands a kick just above my groin as I grab her feet. "I have some rope in my bag."

"We can't tie her up," Shay says.

"We can't just hold her forever," I shoot back. "Do you have a better plan."

"Fine," he sighs after a few seconds. "Help me get her to that big tree over there and then grab the rope."

It takes close to ten minutes to get her tied up, but the relief I feel when it's done is overwhelming. I never expected to be scared by someone younger than me, especially this little girl, but she could have easily done some damage if Shay hadn't been there. If Shay insists on 'helping' this girl then I'd at least like to make sure that I'm safe from her first.

"What now?" It's the obvious question to ask. Shay and I hadn't had much of a plan before we found her, and now it looks like we have far less options available if we have to keep her like this.

"Beats me," he shrugs.

I lean in close to him so that the girl won't be likely to hear me. "We could still leave her. We don't even know who she is or if she needs our help at all."

"Winifred, that's her name. I remember from the Interviews," he tells me. "She sounded like she needed help. Besides, there is no one else around and I think that boy was her ally. She shouldn't be alone, it's not right."

"I suppose," I say. I'm not sure if I agree with him, but Shay seems to be set on this and I don't really have that good of an argument for why we should leave her to herself. "How are we even going to help her anyways?"

Shay pauses and looks down at the ground for a long moment. "I don't know. Just being with her maybe? We just have to help her that's all I know."

I look over at the girl. She isn't yelling at us anymore, but she looks exhausted so that's probably the reason. I catch her eye and her gaze turns menacing. I look away immediately and turn back to Shay. I nod to tell him that I understand, but I can't help asking myself who it is that's going to help us.

* * *

**Head Gamemaker Gemma Fauxe**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

With Toby's death, it leaves me with five tributes. Five strong tributes, who all in someway deserve the crown, though Matilda's survival is questionable.

What has she done? Nothing! She ran from the bloodbath and has been running around my arena searching for Corlis, who isn't even in my arena.

The only reason I've allowed her to live is because I know she'll make great television when she really flies off the handle.

A crazy tribute has always been a crowd pleaser, and I need everything I can to put my arena ahead of Roan's and Xander's.

This whole concept is rather genius, if I must say. Give all three potential Head Gamemakers their own section of the arena, with their own tributes, and give them complete control over it to see who produces the better show, well it's almost as if I came up with the idea!

I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I think so far I'm in the lead.

Roan's bloodbath was a joke, I mean one tribute died in it, and the Capitol was not very pleased. The careers are falling apart, one of them already being dead, and a whole bunch of littles running around safe and sound.

Xander's arena is really doing no better. The bloodbath had deaths, but he allowed one of the Capitol's favourites to die so early. Everybody loved Maelle, and he just let her go, which sucks because I had bet on her to win his stupid arena.

Now it's probably going to be that girl from One, or her bimbo ally.

Doesn't matter though, because who ever comes out of my arena alive will surely be the one to take the whole thing.

I just hope it's Raleigh.

I know I know, Gamemakers aren't supposed to pick favourites, but the stupid girl reminds me so much of another stupid girl I once knew.

Speaking of said stupid girl, I haven't had a one single sip of alcohol since the gong sounded, which is impressive to say the least.

Perhaps that's why my arena is flourishing so much, and I know it's about to get even better with the dramatic death of Toby.

He was another Capitol favourite, but he also received a dramatic death, which will surely be remembered for a long time, and I know personally that's all they care about.

The Capitol doesn't care about who wins, they care about the deaths. They want blood, and gore, and heartbreak. They want to see crying tributes, and they want to cry themselves.

And that's exactly what Toby and Winifred gave them. If there's a single dry eye in all of Panem, well I'll be surprised.

But now Toby's dead, and it's time for the real fun to begin.

I smile as I watch the girl's red hair fly in the wind as she takes chase to Braden. Ever since this morning when Braden almost caught her, Avrie has been keeping a close eye on him.

And by close eye I mean she's been down right following him, and I can't wait until the movement she lingers in sight too long, and Braden happens to turn around.

That fight could very well go down as the best this year had to offer.

Braden's a career, and Avrie's proven herself to be a career killer. Plus, Braden doesn't know it, but it was Avrie who killed his dear friend Ebba, which just adds to the suspense of it all.

Also, Raleigh and Jasper are on the verge of finding Matilda, and then they'll be having there fight soon, and then the finale, and then I can start preparing for next year.

The Games have been fun and all, but there's no doubt in my mind, the best part about the Games is receiving the tributes.

Seeing them for the first time, and getting to know them. There's such a thrill in it, and I can't wait for these Games to be over so we can be that much closer to next years batch.

I switch screens to see Xander's tributes being relatively un-exciting, as per usual. Nothing has happened since the last fight, and I find that both annoying and reassuring.

Roan's arena proves to the same, though I find it rather funny that Winifred has been captured by the two other younger tributes in her arena, and is now tied up.

Again I find it both annoying and reassuring that that's the only excitement going on.

Viewers are definitely most interested in my arena, and my tributes. But who wouldn't be, we rock!

Gemma Fauxe, reigning Head Gamemaker!

Now doesn't that have quite the ring to it.

* * *

**_Tatum Albright, District Six_**

**_Eira Gray, District Eight_**

**_Toby Alvarez, District Three_**

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone! We're late.. again. I won't bother making excuses, but I will tell you that with summer coming around we should be able to get these chapters out a bit more quickly. Note that I said we should be able to, not we will be able to. **

**Apologies go out to those that lost their tributes this chapter. It was one of those emotional ones which we hope you'll enjoy and get something out of. RIP Tobifred, the ship is gone with this chapter. **

**Reviews are nice motivators and always appreciated by the three of us. **

_**Who do you predict to win?**_

_**Who do you predict to fall next?**_

_**What do you think will come of these alliances?**_

**That is basically it. We would like to thank everyone that has been sticking around with this story's rather rocky updates. None of us plan on quitting this story, it's just very difficult for the three of us to always be available to plan and write. Apologies all around, as always.**


	16. Sentence

**Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! at the Disco**

_Welcome to the end of eras  
Ice has melted back to life  
Done my time and served my sentence  
Dress me up and watch me die_

* * *

**Roan Marisco, Male, Head Gamemaker**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"It's done, sir."

Devan looks just as excited as I knew he would be, and for the first time in days I am not at all bothered by his eager smile. I lean back in my chair and nod for him to sit down. I want details. I want to know exactly what Devon did with the freedom I allowed him.

Unfortunately he doesn't take the hint, forcing me to prompt him. "Well?"

"You'd be proud, Mr. Marisco," he says excitedly. I cringe at the use of my last name, which I would normally correct, but today I'm only interested in the topic at hand. Frankly, I'm getting impatient though I would never show it.

"Would I?" I ask, yet again prompting my assistant to continue.

He nods several times. "You would! I managed to get Xander's system information from an untraceable server, which I then used to hack into Gemma's system. Once inside I mixed up a couple of files, which will give them some headaches and be a bit tedious to fix but won't cause any major issues. Then, and here's the kicker, I found the part of their coding that will cause the release of tarantulas into her part of the arena!"

I lean forward to rest my chin on my hands, a grin creeping its way across my lips. I have to admit, only to myself of course, that I have vastly underestimated Devan. I had thought that he would plant something incriminating into Xander's systems, possibly do something to hijack his arena that would look like a major coding error. This is genius, something I would have thought of no doubt. I am impressed.

"Oh! I forgot the best part," Devan beams. "I took the original code that was in her system and enlarged the tarantulas to be the size of bears. They're not venomous or anything, but could you imagine running into one of those at night? Anyways, all of Gemma's mutts looked really boring and just like animals that exist in nature. I though magnifying them it would be much more obvious that it was done by someone else."

Devan stops talking and looks at me as he always does, eyes wide and looking to me for any inkling that what he has done is to my satisfaction. I have always believed in a tough love approach with Devan, knowing that he will do better and better work to please me thus bettering himself. This time I don't bother with any of that.

"Brilliant!" I exclaim and he looks at me as though I have just revealed that I am the President of Panem. I smile brightly at him, assuring him that I am not joking. "It's brilliant. If I didn't know any better I would have thought you had taken the idea from my very mind. I didn't know you had it in you, Devan."

"T-Thank you, sir!" He says and I swear that I almost see tears coming to his eyes.

"For such a job well done," I say. "Why don't you just finish getting the bugs out of the new muttation code I asked you for and then you can head out."

"Really?" His eyes get really big and I know that he recognizes that this is a big deal. No one involved in the creation of the arena gets a day off during the Hunger Games, not even me. I think he deserves it, though. I can handle myself for the day.

"Really."

With that I shoo him away, not wanting to get it in his head that he is any more important than he is. Devan takes a seat at his desk in the corner and begins furiously typing away, apparently eager to get on with his day off. I too sit back at my desk and begin to shuffle through the papers I had been organizing earlier this morning.

My mind keeps wandering to what the other Head Gamemakers must be doing right about now. Gemma, bless her naive heart, will likely be ordering her poor assistant to fix all of the errors that would have accumulated overnight. She'll have been able to track back the muttation release to Xander's system within an hour of it happening. I wonder what she will do to get back at him. With any luck, Devan has started a feud between the two that will last throughout the rest of the Games. With both of them occupied with something so petty, I'll be sure to outdo them. That position as permanent Head Gamemaker is so close I can taste it.

I just hope that Gemma has the skills to enact any sort of revenge on Xander. She'll probably have to get one of her ace coders to do it for her. Maybe she'll really mess with his arena in a way that Devan was far too nice to do to hers. It serves Xander right for trying to hack into my systems a second time. I was sure he would have gotten the message after I had those arena plans from the third Hunger Games planted as a decoy for him to find. It had been disappointing to find that he hadn't used those old codes. I guess he still thought he could try and outsmart me. Pity the fool I suppose.

I am moved from my thoughts when the door to my office flies open suddenly. I am annoyed for a second, no longer, until I see who is standing in my doorway. I nearly choke on the outraged welcome I had been about to make when I lock eyes with none other than President Snow.

"Good morning, President Snow," I say, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. I have not known the President to frequent the Gamemaker hub, and he has never simply popped in unannounced. I glance over my office, thankful that I had tidied up last night before going home. Still, I eye up the pile of papers that I shoved messily across my desk when I stood up. I want so badly to straighten them.

"Don't worry about the mess, Roan," President Snow laughs and my face reddens. "I'm not staying long. Do you mind if I sit?"

I shake my head quickly, pushing the papers onto the far edge of my desk and motioning to the chair in front of my desk. Devan stands up from his desk and I wave for him to leave. President Snow tells me that my assistant may remain.

"He's going to find out anyway, word spreads quickly around here doesn't it, Roan?"

"Yes, sir. You're right of course."

President Snow leans back in his chair, crossing his arms comfortably across his chest. "Let me just get to it, there's no need to waste any more of my time than necessary. Xander has been relieved of his Head Gamemaker duties effective immediately."

I can't help my eyes from widening. It's a harmless enough sentence, but anyone working in the Hunger Games business knows its true meaning. No one in this kind of job is ever fired, there would be far too many secrets at risk to allow someone to walk away from it. The job is held for life, and termination always means death.

"But, sir, I don't understand," I stammer. I have always considered myself a man with a tongue of silver, but there are far too many things racing through my mind to think of eloquence. What does this mean for his arena and the tributes within it? What does this mean for myself and Gemma? And most importantly, was I the one that caused this?

"Oh, Roan," President Snow chuckles as he stands and makes his way towards the door. "Don't insult yourself, of course you understand. You're a smart man, that's why you were hired after all."

I stand up, perhaps to stop him, but too soon he slams the door behind him. I am left in unnatural silence with none of the answers I need and a heavy feeling of guilt settling in my stomach. I slide back down into my chair, all words taken from my mouth leaving me absolutely speechless.

"Did I do this?" I hear Devan ask from his desk, which he grips so hard his knuckles have turned white.

For a moment I am unable to speak. I sink down into my chair as far as I am physically able to, painfully aware of the numb feeling in my legs. Devan steps up to my desk, tears glistening in his eyes and hands shaking against the cold metal of my desk. He asks me again, but I cannot bring myself to answer. For the first time, instead of finding comfort in my own steady voice I fear that my words will give me away.

* * *

**Gemma Fauxe, Female, Head Gamemaker**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

36 hours and 12 minutes. I've gone 36 hours and 12 minutes without a drink, and it feels amazing. Okay maybe not amazing, my head hurts, and man I want a fucking drink more than I've ever wanted anything else in my life, but it's a refreshing thought to know that I don't need alcohol to get me through the day.

What's not refreshing is that due to Jasper and Raleigh, I am down to five tributes, while Roan and Xander both still have six, though my tributes seem to be the strongest left. Thanks to Raleigh and Jasper, my weakest link in Toby has been weeded out, and I am now left with five very capable tributes, well, four very capable tributes and Matilda. I honestly don't know what's happening to that girl, but her sanity is definitely diminishing, and that makes her just as dangerous as the other four, even if I would never be allowed to let her win.

I watch as Avrie slinks through the trees just a few hundred feet behind a very frustrated looking Braden. Avrie has surprised me the most, not only did she take out Ebba, but she's been pretty crafty in her survival tactics, her newest idea being to follow Braden after getting his attention by chucking rocks at the poor kid.

The camera flickers to a zoomed in shot of Raleigh's face as she dramatically rolls her eyes at whatever the camera missed Jasper saying. Jasper doesn't tell Raleigh her eye roll was immature, or unneeded like I'd expect him to. Instead he seems to ignore the girl, looking down at the ground as he drags his sword through the dirt.

Once again the camera switches locations to where Matilda sits on the beach, starring out at the water completely in the open. I know that none of the others are anywhere near her, but she doesn't. But that doesn't seem to concern her, she hasn't budged from her spot in hours, and I know I should listen to my fellow Gamemakers and send mutts after her to get her moving, but there's something enchanting about the way she sits starring without any movement. It's almost as if she isn't really there, and who knows, her mind could be completely gone at this point.

I can't help but think back to Matilda's reaping. I remember it rather distinctly, as her reaction was one of the most unique of the group. I remember the fear in her eyes as she realized that she was going into The Games where she would probably die, and I remember laughing along with her as she stumbled up to the stage, laughing quietly to herself the whole way.

I suppose that should have tipped me off that Matilda was rather weak minded, but I never thought she'd become the ghost of a girl that she is now. That girl is gone, replaced with whatever it is that sits starring out at the water on the beach.

I can't help but think back to my other tribute's Reapings. I remember Braden starting off confident, and then watching his confidence diminish as the girl screamed at him from the crowd not to go. I never did find out who that girl was, but it seems rather unimportant now.

I remember Raleigh walking up to stage with that stupid grin on her face, and I remember me instantly liking her, strictly because everyone else seemed to peg her as weak. She's definitely not that same girl anymore, I've watched as she changed from that bubbly girl, to the cynical front runner that now leads Jasper around the arena.

Jasper, the most pretentious boy I've ever met, now only cares about one thing; going home. He doesn't tell Raleigh she's wrong nearly as much anymore, and he doesn't seem to care how she behaves like he used to. He lets her do her thing, and he follows her blindly like a good little puppy. I'm impressed what Raleigh has turned him into, but I know Jasper isn't done fighting yet.

I consider switching to check on the other arena's, but the death list still shows Toby as the last death, so I know nothing too exciting can be happening anywhere else in the arena, and it's too late in the day now for me or anyone else to spice it up. We'll have to wait until the morning to cause any more trouble for our dear tributes, when there are more viewers to watch the fun.

Almost ironically not a minute after I flick my TV off to go shower, it flicks back on by itself, accompanied by a loud siren that would be sure to wake anyone up.

My blood runs cold as I try to remember any important events that were scheduled for tonight, but I haven't been drinking and I would remember anything of the sort.

My screen automatically switches from my tributes and my arena, to a pretty recognizable face as she sits leaning up against the large force field that separates the arenas.

Arnette looks slightly panicked as she bounces to her feet, sword in hand as her eyes dart around her surrounding area.

At first I'm confused, but then I hear the low rumble that is gradually getting louder and louder, but a quick glance at my personal screen shows that my tributes still look relatively calm, so they must not sense any danger.

The camera man running the show right is quite frankly terrible, he has the camera zoomed in on Arnette's face and that's all we can see. She doesn't move, or try to run, but there are beads of sweat running down her face as if she's been running for hours.

The camera suddenly switches to the District Ten girl running through the woods, but the angle doesn't allow us to see what she's running from, just what she's running towards; the force field.

Without warning, or showing her death, a canon goes off in the distance, and the face of the younger District Three girl appears at the top of the screen, signalling her death.

I'm confused. The Capitol always shows every tributes death, but Savvy's wasn't shown at all. In fact, the camera never even faltered from the over-the-shoulder shot it's been staying with as the District Ten girl continues to run through the arena.

_Boom._

The District Twelve girl's face soon appears at the top of the screen, signalling her death alongside Savvy.

I'm about to grab my phone and call someone when Corlis finally reaches the force field. Her face looks panicked as she bangs and bangs on the wall, pleading for someone to save her. I expect to watch as she dies from whatever has killed the other two girls, but to my surprise she swings at the field, and instead of making contact, she falls right through to the sandy ground of my arena.

The force field is nearly instantly back up, but not in time to stop Arnette from slipping into Roan's arena.

I watch in horror as the camera finally switches to show two girls running for their lives, a wall of fire only a few hundred feet behind them as it literally destroys everything in its path, almost as if a bomb is going off.

Zaria and Phoebe are close enough to reach the force field in time, and I breathe in a sigh of relief as I realize they're heading right towards Roan's section of the arena.

But I'm shocked when they reach the force field and are stopped by the large barrier. It's only a few more seconds before the fire reaches the two girls, and quite literally eats them alive. It's a gruesome scene even for me, but then the camera switches to show Arnette lying on the floor just on the other side of the barrier where Phoebe and Zaria had reached.

She must have watched the girls be burned alive only a few feet away from her.

The camera cuts out a few seconds after it zooms in on Arnette throwing up all over herself and the ground.

Without thinking I grab my phone and am surprised to see a text from Roan.

_It's just me and you left now._

* * *

_**Savvy McCreevy, 15, District Three**_

_**Xylia Devrine, 18, District Twelve**_

_**Phoebe Ryder, 16, District Seven**_

_**Zaria Tullius, 18, District One**_

* * *

**Song- Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! at the Disco.**

* * *

**A/N: Hey all, it's Olive bringing you a chapter that has been overdue for a long while now. It's here at least, and Fin and I plan on continuing this story until the bitter end. **

**Unfortunately, this story will be continuing without Ace. Fin and I have come up with this little explosion and the death of Ace's Gamemaker to make sense of this, as it would have been far too difficult to continue with his arena in addition to our own. I apologize to those four submitters that had tributes that died in Xander's arena, but Fin and I could only save tributes that would work in the plots we have already set up. **

**That's about it, really. We're going to start back up again with tribute POVs next chapter, which shouldn't be too far away since Fin is now done school and I have already determined I'm over my term that starts on Monday. **

**See y'all next time. **


	17. Drowning

**Young God by Halsey**

_And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool_

_For a while now, drowning my thoughts out with sounds._

* * *

**Shay Langford, 15, District Seven**

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"Wake up! Please, Shay, wake up!"

The hand that shakes me out of sleep is trembling, but the voice is just barely above a whisper. I sit up on my elbows and try to blink the sleep out of my eyes. It takes me a minute to realize that it's Armada that is speaking and another minute to actually respond.

"What's happening?" It's impossible to keep the fatigue out of my voice, but I try to.

"I think I heard something," he whimpers and I turn my head around to face the surrounding forest. I don't hear anything at first, but then I hear the slight brushing of leaves. I listen for a moment longer but there is nothing else.

"Go back to sleep," I moan. "It's just the wind."

"No I swear," he sniffles and I realize that his eyes are watering. Something really has gotten him spooked, but there is no need to wake me when it's just the wind whistling through the trees. It's been a long day and a half without sleep, and my entire body protests when I move into a sitting position.

Then I hear it.

"There," Armada breathes, trembling against my arm. I grab onto his shoulder tightly, listening to make sure that I am actually hearing what I think I'm hearing.

Yes, there it is again. Not just the whistling of the wind. Sticks snapping. Footsteps.

"Move!" I say much louder than I had meant to, but Armada doesn't hush me. There is no time for that. Armada is scrambling to gather the meager supplies that we have before I can even think to do that. The tiredness is gone now, replaced by a trembling panic that makes any sort of thought nearly impossible. I grab my vest from where it was being used as a pillow and take whatever Armada hands me. It's too dark to tell what it is, and I don't even stop to think about what we might be leaving behind in the dark mud.

"The girl!" I exclaim and Armada looks at me for a moment like he has no idea what I'm talking about. Then it clicks and he scrambles over to where the girl is still tied up to a tree. I can only watch him struggling with her ties for a moment before I have to look away. I know I should be helping, or at least doing _something, _but my body refuses to move and I just stand clutching my vest to my stomach.

I can hear them now, the cracking of sticks and the brushing of leaves that tells me we are not alone, and that they're getting closer. We don't have any more time left. I stab at the air in front of me with my free hand and take off at the fastest pace that will allow me to stay quiet. I can hear Armada's footsteps behind me less than a second later and I am relieved. He didn't need my help with the ties, thank Panem.

We don't run far before Armada grabs my wrist from behind and tackles me down into a nearby bush. I am thankful for his thinking, because my entire body is now beyond exhausted and I'm not sure I could have gone much longer. We crouch together about as close as we can both get to the middle of the bushes, each clutching the other far too tightly.

It takes several minutes before the footsteps stop. Thankfully they had been moving slowly, or else we wouldn't have had enough time to get us all out of there. It's not until this moment that it hits me, and hits me hard like a punch to the gut.

"Where's the girl?" I whisper. She's not with us, but he was untying her. She must have run another way, but might she have run towards trouble?

Armada hesitates far too long before answering and by then I already know in the pit of my stomach what he is going to say. "I couldn't get her untied."

His voice is shaken, like he only just realized it himself, and his body once again begins to tremble against mine. I hear him sniffle and I clamp a hand over his mouth to keep him silent. There is no use in us getting caught, not now.

Tears run over the back of my hand for what feels like a lifetime before we hear anything. The voices are too low for us to know what they're saying, but there is at least two of them and they're girls. They don't sound half as tired as I felt earlier, in fact if I didn't know any better I would say they sound almost annoyed. For a second I am glad that I can't hear what they are saying, because I can bet those voices belong to the Career girls.

It's impossible to miss it when they find her. She's sobbing and screaming out for someone to help, exactly like yesterday except this time we aren't the ones that found her.

A scream pierces the air, followed just seconds later by the thunder of a cannon, and I know she wasn't going to be that lucky this time. We might have been the ones that saved her yesterday, but today we are the ones that killed her even if we weren't the ones that held the knife.

* * *

**Dierdre Lewell, 18, District Four **

**District11-Olive**

* * *

"What was that?"

The words are off my lips before I have the chance to stop them. Eden glares back at me over her shoulder, telling me what I already know which is that I have once again messed up.

I don't realize that she has stopped walking until she is close enough to grab my wrist. Eden pulls me up to face her, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowed. I can't help but tremble under her gaze and it makes me feel even worse to once again realize how much Eden can frighten me.

"I have told you already, be quiet," she hisses so quietly I'm not even certain she's said anything at all.I look away which only causes her to pull me in closer. She places her thumb under my chin and the rest of her fingers over the bottom part of my face, silently tightening her grip until I am clenching my teeth together in pain. I know this gesture, it was something often done when you want to slap someone but without so much noise. It brings me back to the Academy for a moment and I grimace.

She lets me go and I stumble back a couple steps, another move that I instantly regret once it's done. I hate that I let her think I'm scared of her, it only proves to the Panem audience that I am nothing more than what my training score and interview showed- a weak Career. I know that I am strong but why is it so hard to do what I know to do to show that I am strong?

Eden points forward into the darkness with her spear and I nod solemnly. I am not happy about it, but right now Eden needs to be in charge. She is everything that the Academy would want in a Career and I am the opposite. No matter what happened between us earlier I will follow her. It is what I know, to follow without question even when I would like nothing more than to take the lead myself.

It has been hours since we first started walking. It was Eden's only plan- to walk at night and hopefully stumble upon someone with their guard down. Not that it would matter if we came across someone who was able to see us coming from a mile away. We would still have the upper hand, we are Careers. The only ones in this place. Still, I know that we need a plan. Careers always want to follow a plan, it keeps our mind occupied.

I hear it again and I stop mid step. With Eden's annoyance at me I had almost forgotten that I had heard anything at all, but there it was. It could have been nothing more than the wind in the trees but some primitive instinct inside of me tells me that it is something else. The very something that we have been looking for since we set out last night- tributes.

I don't have to ask to know that Eden has heard it too. She stops with her spear clutched tight to her chest, the swinging of the lantern attached to her backpack the only movement I can detect. I wait for her signal, not wanting to upset her so soon after the last time. I want to show Panem that I can be a true Career. I can follow orders. I can hunt. I can kill.

Eden takes off to the left and I am at her heels within seconds. Every ounce of disdain I had been holding evaporates with the adrenaline pumping through my system. No matter what people say I am a Career and my body knows what to do, even if my mind can sometimes get in the way.

It doesn't take us long to reach the target. I call out to Eden when I see something moving. "There!"

The blood fades from my face when I see her. I recognize the young girl from District Eleven, though I don't know her name. She stares at us from where she sits at the base of a tree, her hands and feet bound together and a rope tethering her to the tree by her waist. Even in the thin light I can see that she is crying, and a moment later her sobs reach my ears. It's almost like physical pain, to hear a girl so young crying in fear.

I put my hand out in front of Eden, stopping her from approaching the girl. "It could be a trap."

"Don't be ridiculous," she laughs.

I don't know what makes me keep arguing, but I can't seem to stop. "Someone could be waiting in the trees, where we can't see them. We should leave."

"You're serious?" Eden scoffs. "Even if someone was stupid enough to set a trap, I could take on anyone of the tributes in this arena no matter where they tried to hide."

Deep down it's obvious that she is right, but something inside me wants so badly to leave that I consider simply making a break for it. It's her comment that stops me- that _she _could take on any of the tributes in the arena. I can't help but think she is including me in that statement. I also can't help but believe that she could very well be right.

The girl is frantic now, trying to get out of her ties, but I can tell that whoever bound her knew what they were doing. Why would someone leave her here like this? Did they know that we would come by and find her? Is that what they wanted? I feel sick at the thought of being in her place. Not only the youngest tribute but also helpless to do anything beyond beg for her life.

I don't know what else to say, just that I have to say _something _or Eden is going to kill her. This girl had no chance once she got into this place, but to kill her like this feels wrong. It didn't feel wrong to kill the boy, Regan, but this is different. I have never taken the life of someone who couldn't fight back, never even thought I would have to consider it. I refuse to.

"She can't fight back, Eden."

"That's not our problem," she sneers. "We're Careers and if you couldn't handle it you shouldn't have volunteered."

Eden's spear is poised over the girl's forehead, it's point just inches from her skull. I want to think of something to say, something to convince her we can just leave the girl and hunt her later when she can have a chance, but I don't. Eden is right. I am a Career and Careers don't care about anyone but themselves.

I force myself to look as her spear skewers the girl's head to the tree behind her. I am a Career and it's time I started acting like it.

* * *

**Matilda 'Mattie' Prescott, 18, District Nine**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

They say that if you think you're crazy, you aren't, because truly crazy people have no idea that they're crazy.

I think that's a load of shit.

I've been sat here on this beach for what seems like days, and I haven't flinched in the slightest; not even when those four cannons went off right in a row. I just can't seem to force myself to move, or force myself to think rationally, or force myself to do anything but sit and stare at the last pretty view I'll probably ever see.

I never thought I'd say it, but damn I miss District Nine. I miss the people, and damn it I even miss the nasty smells that so often drifted through that shit whole. But mostly, I miss not having to fight for my life 24 fucking seven.

Going into The Games I thought the hardest thing to go against would be the careers, but I never realized it would be this mentally draining.

I haven't even seen a single soul since the bloodbath, I haven't had to fight any mutts, nor have I had to really search for food that hard, as this place seems to replenish its stock daily. But it's not the physical labour that's training, it's the waking up every day wondering if today will be the day I die, it's wondering how it will happen, and its wondering who will do it, and will it hurt?

It's exhausting, and that's without the thought of Corlis terrorizing my mind every second of every day. I know that Maelle is dead, I saw her face in the sky that first night, and I thought I'd be happy about that, but her smiling picture only made me realize that she was a real person, with real feelings, and I didn't even give her a chance.

I've always been like that; once I have an opinion about someone it rarely changes, but even in this fight to the death I let the situation take over me and I was ready to end that girl's life before I even knew anything about her.

Corlis on the other hand, I have no idea if that girl is still alive or not. Knowing her, I'd assume without Maelle she's a goner, but I can never be quite sure. For her sake, I hope she is dead and I hope it didn't hurt.

I barely notice the snap of the branch behind me, it almost fading into just another noise in the background of this horrible arena. But when another branch snaps, this time a little closer, I know that the Gamemakers have gotten tired of me just sitting here, and have sent either mutts after me, or lead another tribute right to me.

I look down at the metallic water bottle laying empty near my foot, the stupid thing being the only supplies I have left.

I suppose I have a decision to make; I can get up and fight whatever or whoever is closing in on me, or I can continue to sit here and allow the pretty water to be the last thing I ever see.

I want to fight, I really do. I want to get up and run, or defend myself the best I can, so that everyone will at least see I went down a fighter.

I am a fighter, and I need everyone to see that.

But I'm so tired. I'm so done with this Game, and this arena, and this torment. I want it all to be over, and I'm not willing to wait another few days, or another week. And I don't have it in me to fight that long anyways.

So as I hear the footsteps finally reach the sand, and take off running, I make my decision. I'm ready to go home, even if it is in a casket. I'm ready for this fight to be over.

"I'm sorry," I mouth, eyes never leaving the water that I'm so heavily focused on.

I can't help but smile as I begin to feel the vibration of the sand as whoever has come to end my life approaches, but just as I'm bracing myself for impact, I feel whoever it is run right into me and feel as their arms wrap around my neck.

I expect to feel the constriction as they strangle the life out of me, but instead the arms stay lax around my neck as I hear the sobs begin, feeling the tears fall onto my neck.

I immediately pull myself out of her grasp and fall to the sandy floor, turning to see the girl's light brown eyes and bright blond hair.

"Mattie.." she huffs, a weak smile on her tired looking face.

I feel my reality spin as I begin to question whether Corlis is in fact here or not. I have no idea if she's real, or if she's fake, how the hell am I supposed to know? All I know is that she was supposed to fucking kill me, and I wasn't supposed to feel like this anymore.

It's unbelievably hard to come back from accepting your own death, especially in a Game like this.

"Kill me, kill me, kill me," I mumble, looking up with pleading eyes as I beg Corlis, or whatever she really is to end my life like I had expected.

"Mattie, are you ok?" I barely hear her as I struggle to pull myself to my feet.

My eyes dart around as I look for anything that could indicate I'm not imagining Corlis, that she is in fact real. But when your eyes see nothing but water for however long I sat there, it's hard for them to adjust to a sudden change in scenery, so I see nothing but a big blur.

I stumble forward, falling to my knees as Corlis reaches her hand out to steady me and I feel her bumpy skin.

I hold her wrist in my hand, spinning it over as I studied the bumps that go all the way up her hands. They're red, and some of them are oozing blood and other bodily fluids, and I realize that this can't be Corlis.

Corlis had nearly perfect skin, soft and smooth. This isn't Corlis, this is the Game playing a trick on me.

Without thinking my hand reaches for the metallic bottle that still sits laying on the ground, and in one swift motion I bring it up and slam it into the monsters temple, knocking it to the ground.

Without hesitation I leap onto the monster, bringing the bottle down repeatedly until all I see is red.

When I'm satisfied the monster is dead, I fall to the ground beside the body, feeling my hair get wet as I lay directly in the pool of dirty blood that has accumulated in the sand.

I stare up at the bright sky as my eyes suddenly become heavy as I remember I haven't slept in days.

"Don't let me wake up," I whisper to the sky, praying that I die peacefully before I see that beautiful sky again.

* * *

**Avrie L'reaux, 17, District Eight**

**Call Me Fin**

* * *

My fingers get caught in knot after knot as I half-heartedly try to comb through the mess that has since become my hair. We've only been here a few days, but these Games seem to be going a lot faster than most of the other years, and yet I still find myself looking and feeling like I've been here for weeks.

It doesn't take me long to give up on trying to tame my hair, instead I look at in the reflection of my water bottle and half smile at how dangerous it makes me look. It's a lot frizzier than it normally is, and I can even spot some dried blood here and there, most of it belonging to Ebba.

I reach into my pack and pull out my last apple, biting into it as I remember the hideous looking career. I think that if it had been anyone else, I would feel bad, but after thinking about it, Ebba wanted to be here. She volunteered for this, which was an idiotic move on her part.

Sure I'd seen her use that trident of hers, and I could tell she knew what she was doing, but she was not ready for these Games, proven by me taking her out so early.

My eyes fall on the back of Braden's head as he sits near a river continuously filling up and then drinking his water bottle. He's been here for about an hour, and his relaxed body makes me think he believes he's in no danger.

I grin, twirling the knife in my hand.

Of course Braden would take me out before I could get anywhere near him. With one flick of his wrist one of his knives would find a temporary home in my flesh, and I'd be sent back to District Eight in one of those awful caskets. But unfortunately for Braden, that's just not how this is going to go.

After all, as much as it pains me to say it, I do need him.

The way I see it, it's going to come down to Jasper &amp; Raleigh, against Braden &amp; I. That District Nine girl will probably find a way to get herself killed sooner or later, which just leaves us four. And there's no way Braden or I would be able to take on Jasper and Raleigh alone, unless those two split up, which is just something I can't rely on, because who knows.

It's been about a day since I started following Braden, and I think it's safe to say he hasn't joined forces with Jasper and Raleigh. The three of them being careers, I wouldn't be surprised if they had made their own little pack to take out the rest of us, but I'm just about sure they haven't. Plus, I'm running out of time as the numbers continue to dwindle.

I open my pack and grab the smaller pack within that contains a handful of small stones, small enough for me to throw, but big enough to get my new friends attention over there.

The tree I'm concealing myself in is about 50 feet from where Braden sits, so when I throw my first rock, it doesn't even make it halfway to him before it slams into a tree and falls to the ground.

It's enough to get his attention though, as he quickly stands up and readies his knives.

I throw another one, and this time it makes it a little further before its journey is cut short by a thick stump. But I've succeeded in my task, Braden slowly moves towards me with his knives at the ready.

It's almost a freighting sight.

Almost.

Braden continuously approaches the tree I'm camped out in, until he eventually is within a few feet from the trunk of my tree.

I give him a few more moments to calm down before I ready myself to start talking, but just as I'm about to open my mouth something catches both mine and Braden's attention as it comes barreling through the trees, snapping branches and completely destroying everything in its path.

And by something, I mean many somethings.

Most of the mutts in our part of the arena have been relatively unintimidating, but these things don't look like anything I've seen before, in this arena or any other Games I've watched on the television.

I know what they are; spiders, but most of their legs are taller than my whole body, and I'm a relatively tall person.

Their long black hairy legs move swiftly through the woods, some of them even jumping from tree to tree as they approach a very concerned looking Braden.

Their beady eyes stare him down as if he's their next meal, and he probably will be.

I had a solid plan; I was going to tell Braden he needed me to take down the other careers, and as insurance I was going to convince him Matilda was in one of the trees behind him with a bow, something she was surprisingly good at using. Of course it was all a lie, but a believable one that I'm sure this idiot would have fell for, but I don't think that's going to work anymore.

There's at least ten spiders, and I only count six blades in Braden's hand, which means there's no way he can take them on by himself, and there's no better way to prove my loyalty than to save his life.

I wait until the first spider is within range of his knives, and watch as he effortlessly throws one in the approaching spider's giant, beady eye. To my surprise, the spider barely falters as it continues its approach.

There's no way this idiot would waste one of his precious knives on me, especially when there is obviously some bigger, more immediate threats.

I slip down the tree, pulling my knife from its halter as my feet hit the ground, Braden barely noticing me as the first spider finally launches itself at the boy's body.

I watch in almost awe as Braden throws himself to the ground under the spider, dragging his blade through the belly of the monster as he slides underneath it. Dark blood splatters the ground as the beast twitches to the ground, before the flailing stops and it drops to its stomach, its beady eyes lacking the fire they had had before.

Braden doesn't hesitate as he throws himself at the nearest spider, throwing one knife in its eye as he stabs his other knife into the side of his head, successfully ending its mutation life.

I begin to question if he did need me after all, but I then realize I actually have to show him I'm useful before he'll ever agree to help me.

Charging the nearest mutt, I try and replicate Braden's technique by sliding underneath the monster and dragging my blade through its gut, however it must have learned from its companion's mistakes, because it quickly uses one of its legs to grab hold of my arm, and fling me to the side.

My blood begins to boil as I pull myself to my feet again, charging the mutt once more. This time I anticipate its move, and slash its leg with my knife as it nears my arm, dark blood splattering my own body.

Without a second's hesitation, I throw myself at the head of the mutt, dodging another leg as I slip my blade into the side of its head, feeling the life drain out of it much like I did with Ebba.

I'm not delusional enough to think that memory won't soon haunt me, but right now I refuse to let it.

Right now I still have a fight to win.

I turn back to where Braden was, and see a large pile of dead mutts, with no Braden in sight. That's when I notice a knife sticking out of the trunk of a tree, and I realize Braden is trying to reverse the roles.

He's trying to play games with me, and while I find it incredibly annoying, I can't help but respect the kid.

* * *

_**Winifred Herring, District Eleven**_

_**Corlis Kembrey, District Ten**_

* * *

**A/N: Hey all, it's Olive! Well that took longer than expected. I apologize because this time it was actually my fault (weird right?). Shouldn't happen again because I now have no responsibilities for the summer except this story and **_**All Eyes. **_

**Apologies go out for those who lost a tribute this chapter, especially Tyler because I know how you loved Winnie. She was adorable and such fun to write but unfortunately didn't have any further to go in her plot after Toby. **

**Next chapter should be not too far away, see you all then!**


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